


Illogically Logical

by boasamishipper



Series: The SherLOK 'verse [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Developing Friendships, Flashbacks, Gen, Mystery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sherlock Holmes AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11416686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boasamishipper/pseuds/boasamishipper
Summary: Sherlock Holmes AU of Legend of Korra, with Sherlock!Asami and Watson!Bolin. Cases they solve are either concurrent with the show, Conan Doyle's original ones, or my own. May contain triggering content.





	1. Prologue

_His hands were streaked with crimson, splashing scarlet droplets onto his uniform. A horrible pain shot through his heart as he caught a glimpse of the gaping wound in his commanding officer's chest. The blood was dark and glistening, soaking the fabric of the man's uniform and was beginning to turn the sand a sick shade of red underneath him._

_Bolin fell to his knees next to the lieutenant, pressing as hard as he could on the wound. The man flinched and groaned beneath him. "Sir?" he asked, his voice loud over the sound of gunfire. "Lieutenant Chouko, can you hear me?"_

_Chouko's eyes opened the merest fraction of a centimeter. "D-Doc?" he croaked, his voice so quiet that Bolin had to strain to hear him. "H-how…how bad—"_

" _Stay still," Bolin ordered, pressing harder. "Takumi, get me my bag…Sir, we're going to get you out of here, alright? Just stay still and let me treat your wound."_

_Takumi tossed Bolin his medical bag, and Bolin immediately set to work, ripping the lieutenant's shirt open and wrapped the wound carefully, feeling safe knowing that the men were watching his back. Besides, the wound had missed the vital organs and arteries, and had even gone straight through the lieutenant's body._

_Ironically, this had been the most luck they'd had all day._

" _Save…the other men," the lieutenant slurred. "Let me die—I'm…n-not worth it—"_

" _All due respect, sir, shut the fuck up," he said sternly. "You're not dying, not on my watch."_

_Chouko nodded, and Bolin nodded too, continuing to treat the wound. The lieutenant couldn't die. They'd already lost Hiroshu and Yuhan and Raia and Kimiri and Riya, who had barely gotten out of commando training when a sniper had gunned her down._

_Bolin had lost good men and women, but he wasn't about to lose the lieutenant._

_Suddenly, the corporal yelled from behind right as Bolin felt a stabbing pain in his left shoulder._ Bullet wound,  _he knew immediately._ Damn. It hit the collarbone. Shit, shit…

" _Doc," groaned Chouko, and Bolin looked up, his heart thudding in his chest as more blood was welling from the wound, but how could that be?_

_And then realization struck Bolin like a bolt of lightning. The first bullet had ended up hitting an artery after all. Chouko was bleeding out._

No. No, it couldn't be happening.

" _S'okay," the lieutenant murmured, his face grey. Bolin frantically shook his head in denial as blood trickled from his shoulder and from Chouko's chest wound. "Don't…worry…about me, D-Doc…"_

" _No…you aren't dying on me, Lieutenant, you aren't dying on me, damnit!"_

" _It's okay," the lieutenant said softly, taking a rattling breath and closing his eyes._

_Bolin held his breath, hoping, praying that he was just dreaming. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't…_

" _D-Doc_ _?" Takumi's voice trembled. "Is…is he?"_

_Bolin pressed two fingers to the lieutenant's throat. No pulse. He rested his head on the man's chest, already knowing that there wasn't a heartbeat._

_Lieutenant Chouko was dead._

_He moved into place without thinking and started compressions, counting under his breath and trying desperately to keep a steady rhythm. After a moment, Bolin leaned down and pinched Chouko's nose shut, tilting his head to open his airway and breathing for him. He gave him another breath, his head spinning, and checked the lieutenant's pulse._

_Nothing._

_And he kept pressing._

_What felt like an hour later, Bolin's shoulders ached and his arms were numb. He didn't know where he had the strength to keep doing CPR. He wasn't about to give up, after all. He never had before, and wouldn't now._

_Maybe they'd even have a good laugh about this later, because Chouko was going to start goddamn breathing_ right fucking now _…_

" _Doc..." Takumi. Bolin didn't dare stop. "Sir, he's gone. You—you need to stop. You n-need to get your shoulder medical attention—"_

" _I'm not gonna let him die!" Bolin snarled, and he would've whacked the corporal over the head if he had any strength left and if his shoulder didn't hurt so much._

" _He's already dead, Bolin!" the corporal shouted at him. "He's dead..." The man took a long, ragged breath, reminding Bolin of Chouko's last breath—but that was impossible, because the lieutenant wasn't…he wasn't…_

_Bolin finally looked down, stopping the compressions. His commanding officer was gray and motionless. There was no more blood trickling out of his wound._

_Because Chouko was gone._

_He could deny it and he could fight it and he could delude himself, but it didn't change the truth._

_The truth was that Lieutenant Chouko was lying dead on the ground in the middle of an Earth Kingdom war zone and there was no medical help, no measures that could bring him back. It was too late._

_It was too late._

"Dr. Lieng."

Bolin's head shot up, his hand flying to his belt where his service pistol would usually be before remembering that he was home. He was safe. He was having a recommended session with his therapist. His heart still pounded heavily, his mind still lost in the horrible memory.

He'd seen it a thousand times before. So many times that Bolin could recite the day by heart, recall every heartbeat and every gunshot he'd heard. He could recall too much and not enough at the same time. He remembered a nurse treating his shoulder wound, and how Corporal Takumi had had to pry him away from Chouko's body.

"You have suffered a terrible tragedy, it's true," his therapist said gently. His therapist was a young woman, barely into her thirties. He knew that she was just trying to help, but she couldn't help him. No one could. "But you  _survived._  You have your whole life ahead of you to forget that one day, Dr. Lieng."

There was silence. "The problem with surviving, Doctor," Bolin stated quietly, "is that you end up with the ghosts of everyone you'd ever left behind riding on your shoulders." He remembered Riya, and Yuhan, and Hiroshu, and Chouko—he'd let down all of them. "I lied to my commanding officer and told him that we were going to get him out of here."

"Would you have?"

"Of course," Bolin snapped, almost offended at the insinuation. "Of course we would have. His wound was fatal from the beginning. The bullet penetrated the chest wall and damaged his right lung, along with hitting an artery. Chouko died, choking on his own blood from two bullets to the chest—and the worst part, Doctor, was that I had the nerve to tell a dying man who  _knew_ that he was dying, that he was going to be okay." His hands automatically clenched into fists.

" _You're not dying, not on my watch."_

He'd lied.

"You're an army doctor," his therapist was saying calmly. Apparently she'd changed the subject. Bolin made an effort to listen—he  _was_  paying fifty yuans for this session, after all. "It's going to take you time to adjust to civilian life. But you can't adjust to it if you keep brooding on the past. What happened then…it isn't going to change what happens to you now. You can choose what happens to you now—you can be anyone you want to be, Dr. Lieng."

Bolin shook his head slowly, a pained chuckle erupting from his throat. "Doctor," he said, "I lost who I was when I let my commanding officer die three months ago. His wife was six months pregnant—how do you think that she felt when I had to tell her that I let her husband die?" He exhaled heavily, wanting to bury his face in his hands. "She hates me." He paused. "I hate myself."

She sighed.  _Woman's obviously used to self-deprecation_ , Bolin noted.  _She_ is  _a therapist after all._  "Well, Dr. Lieng," she said, standing up, "I believe our session is up. I'll see you next week."

* * *

Bolin had joined the United Forces about four months after his eighteenth birthday, wanting to help out his country and feeling that becoming a part of the military was the only way to do so. Unfortunately, his older brother Mako hadn't seen joining the army as a benefit—he'd seen it as a suicide wish, and still did. Deep down, he understood his brother's reluctance to accept his lifestyle: Bolin and Mako were orphans and had looked out for one another ever since the two were six and eight, respectively.

After three years of taking the courses (medical and military alike) offered at the University of Republic City, Bolin had been recommended for commando training. After his promotion to second lieutenant, he had joined Lieutenant Chouko's six-person convoy—himself, the lieutenant, a sergeant (Hiroshu), one private first class (Riya), and two corporals (one being Yuhan, and the other having had a dishonorable discharge after a peace mission gone awry in the Southern Water Tribe). He'd liked his line of work, especially being a doctor, because short of being a waterbender (Riya had been one, but she wasn't a healer), he was the only source of medical help that the ailing recruits could get during a crisis.

During his first tour in the Earth Kingdom, he, Yuhan and Chouko had been sitting in a bar, toasting to Riya and Hiroshu's memories when the corporal had suddenly (albeit being slightly drunk at the time) stated to every patron that since Bolin hailed from the Fire Nation on his mother's side, the Earth Kingdom on his father's side and currently lived in Republic City, the only suitable nickname for him had to be 'Three Continents'. Bolin had tried to dissuade it, of course, but Yuhan had been the type of man that exuded a certain charisma, making everyone believe his word was law.

Near the end of the tour, Yuhan had died when one of their armored vehicles had hit a land mine, along with two others. Bolin and Chouko had miraculously come through relatively unharmed, although with three more men to bury.

The next few years had passed smoothly, and then Bolin turned twenty-eight right in the middle of his fourth tour, his second in the Earth Kingdom, which was the one where everything had gone to hell and had sent him home with an honorable discharge, a heavy dollop of survivor's guilt, a seriously scarred left shoulder, and no means to provide himself with other than his meager army pension.

Spirits, did the universe hate him.

After he'd been released from the hospital, the United Forces had provided him with a small room in an inn on the outskirts of the city, which he'd been living in for the last few weeks, doing dishes in exchange for food and applying for jobs at every hospital in a fifty mile radius.

Bolin knew, of course, for a fact that Mako would drop everything at a tip of a hat and help him, but refused to even entertain the notion, knowing that only one thing would come out of it. He would be forced to listen to an endless array of "I told you so's" from his older brother, and would be smothered in love and guilt and probably would end up working a desk job just like Mako, which would lead to him getting married and having a house in the suburbs with two kids—the white picket fence, puppy and apple pie dream.

This, as happy and pleasant as it sounded, was definitely not for him.

Definitely not.

So Bolin created a routine for himself—he'd wake up early each morning and sweep the inn, which would earn him a hearty breakfast from the elderly couple who owned it. He would then look carefully through the wanted ads in the newspapers and constantly had the radio turned to a station where the announcer, Shiro Shinobi, always listed job opportunities at the end of every hour. The few job opportunities he'd had were miserable, and definitely weren't appropriate for an "ex-squaddie with a messed up shoulder", which one of his bosses had said to him outright. He'd see his therapist, who despite her nagging was interesting to talk to, but had run out of money for her long ago. He went to sleep at ten o'clock each night, no matter what.

It wasn't much, but it was a schedule, and he loved schedules. They made him feel organized, like he had a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

He realized a long time ago that while his earthbending skills might've gotten him a job pro-bending in a minor circuit (or even a major one, if he was lucky), Bolin Lieng was, first and foremost, a doctor and a soldier—he didn't know how to be anything else, and it seemed as of late that he couldn't do either.

The elderly lady had sent Bolin on an errand one morning to a coffee shop, needing some of the grounds for her customers and had given him twenty-five yuans, five of which he spent on an excellent cup of coffee, which he gratefully drank at a small table near the door, still preferring even now to be able to make a quick exit if necessary.

Bolin felt eyes burning into the back of his head, and the hairs on his neck stood up while he tried to finish his drink, but was unable to do so. Aggravated, he whirled around on his stool, coming face to face with a young man, possibly in his early twenties, with a faded cap on his shaggy dark hair, which framed a narrow face with brown eyes and a wide smile. He was drinking an espresso, and for some reason this aggravated Bolin further. "What?" he snapped. "Is there a particular reason you're trying to burn holes into the back of my head?"

Instead of backing off, the stranger grinned. "I knew it!" The young man shook his head, grinning wider. "Lieng, right? Bolin Lieng?"

It'd been so long since anyone had called him something other than his rank or title that he almost told the stranger that he was mistaken. Bolin scrunched his eyebrows together, because he knew the man in front of him, he  _did…_ what was his name? Saki? Satoshi? "Skoochy?"

"Right-o!" Shun Nakamura, better known as Skoochy, nodded, gesturing at Bolin excitedly and grinning. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Bolin gave his old friend a small, although genuine, smile. "Yeah. Haven't seen you last since—"

"Since college, right?" When Bolin nodded, Skoochy continued, talking animatedly while taking sips of his drink in between sentences. "You look like shit, man."

Same annoyingly cheerful attitude and boyish behavior with the charming childlike grin that had had most of the females in their classes swooning. Skoochy really hadn't changed a bit. He shrugged, not taking offense because it was true and he knew it—he  _did_  look like shit. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said tightly.

"So, last I heard of you," Skoochy said, jabbing his pointer finger at Bolin while holding his coffee cup in another hand, "you were in the Earth Kingdom wearing a fancy uniform and getting shot at. What went wrong?"

Bolin chuckled dryly, fighting the urge to expose his shoulder but decided not to scare the other patrons of the shop. "Use your imagination, Skooch," he said sarcastically before coughing. "I got shot." Reflexively, his hand shot up to his shoulder and he scratched it awkwardly, and Skoochy gave him an understanding nod, leaning back in his chair.

"I guess your situation's all screwy then, huh?" Skoochy muttered and continued before Bolin could answer his rhetorical question. "Can't Mako help out?"

Bolin, who had been taking a sip of his coffee, choked and spluttered, causing Skoochy to leap around him and whack him on the back several times. By the time Bolin could breathe normally again, nearly everyone in the shop was staring at them.

_So much for not wanting to attract attention._

"Judging from that reaction, I'd say your darling brother hasn't offered—but I'm not an idiot," Skoochy quickly said, "so the obvious answer is that you, Bolin Lieng, are being a stubborn bastard as usual and have probably refused all aspects of help from the outside world."

"Not nearly as dramatic, Skoochy, but yeah." Bolin paused. "Spirits knows I can't afford Republic City on an army pension—maybe I can move out to the countryside or something."

Skoochy snorted. "Sure, Bolin. And you'll spend the rest of your life fulfilling your secret ambition of herding goats in the mountains. That'll happen."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

The young man shrugged and nonchalantly tossed the now-empty cup of espresso towards a trash can but accidentally hit a barista, who gave Skoochy the finger before picking up the cup and throwing it away. Snickering, Skoochy continued as if the conversation hadn't been interrupted. "Get a roommate. You know, rent an apartment with someone, just like back in college with me."

Bolin scoffed. "Get real, Skooch," he stated. "Who in their right mind would want someone like me as a roommate?"

Skoochy shook his head and chuckled thoughtfully, tapping his finger on his chin. "Well, what do you know?"

"What?" Bolin asked defensively, expecting Skoochy to make a comment about his wellbeing and not wanting to rely on someone, which was true. After all, the last person who'd relied on him had bled out in the middle of the desert…

"Nothing personal, Lieng," Skoochy assured him. "It's just that you're the second person who's said that to me today."

Well,  _that_ was unexpected. "Really?" Bolin asked suspiciously, wondering if Skoochy was playing a joke on him. "Who? Where can I meet him?"

Skoochy laughed. "Hold your horses, Lieng. First off, it's not a he, it's a she, and second of all, I don't think that you'll like her very much."

"Wait, why not?" Bolin inquired with a frown. "Skooch, I don't care if this woman is a serial killer—I've been living in a room smaller than a closet for the last few months and banging my head on the ceiling every time I sit up in bed. I need a place!"

"Let's just say that you might prefer a serial killer after meeting her." Skoochy shook his head again. "She's the type of gal that would test a poison compound on herself to see what happens. Not that she's suicidal or anything," he hastily amended. "What I mean is that she'd test it on herself so she could write a paper on it while heaving her guts up."

"She certainly  _sounds_  suicidal," Bolin muttered under his breath. "Actually, Skooch, never mind. I don't care, man. Can you introduce me to her? I'll draw my own conclusions."

Skoochy snickered, taking Bolin's half-empty cup and draining it with a sigh, smacking his lips together. Bolin shot him the bird. "Draw your own conclusions," Skoochy repeated. "Lieng, you're just the same as I remember you—impulsive, crazy, and one of a kind." The young man craned his neck to see a clock on the adjacent wall of the shop before clucking his tongue. "You're in luck today, old chum. If I know her schedule by now, she's probably still in the morgue."

"Oh, haha—wait,  _what._ "

* * *

After dropping off the coffee grounds to the elderly woman at the inn—who was glad to have it, albeit about an hour late—Skoochy hailed a taxi for the both of them, graciously allowing Bolin to enter before him. He was about to thank his friend when Skoochy mock-curtsied and took off his cap in a chivalrous gesture. Not caring that the cabbie and several passerby were staring at them, Bolin politely suggested for the young man to go to hell, along with flipping him off.

"Already been," was his response as Skoochy sat in the passenger seat of the cab. Bolin rolled his eyes, remembering that that had always been Skoochy's response when someone told him to go to hell. "Hello, sir," Skoochy stated, his tone much more polite. "Take us to St. Hokkaido hospital, please."

"Right away, sir," the cabbie replied, sounding eager to get rid of them. Bolin couldn't blame him, not after overhearing their antics.

_So…this woman…I wonder what she's like? Surely she can't be as bad as Skoochy described her—RCPD would've arrested her by now, wouldn't they? Apparently she works in a morgue—maybe a mortician? Or a medical examiner? That might work, actually…but would a medical examiner really try to experiment on herself? Would anyone?_

_Spirits, this woman must be insane._

_Wonder what she looks like…_

Bolin still hadn't made up his mind by the time the taxi had slid to a halt outside of the fairly large hospital. He couldn't help but smile up at it—he'd trained there for a few years back in college, along with Skoochy before the young man had dropped out.  _Talk about déjà vu,_ he thought, grinning, as Skoochy paid the driver a handful of yuans. "Have a great day, sir," Skoochy said before tilting his head at Bolin. "Hey, Lieng, you daydreaming over there? Let's get movin', she's not going to be there all day."

Bolin nodded, a bit embarrassed. "Right, sorry," he said apologetically, before exiting the taxi. Skoochy walked around the front doors, leading Bolin to the side of the brick building where a few surgeons were smoking cigarettes next to a faded red door. They nodded hello to Skoochy, but Bolin could feel them staring at him, judging him— _maybe I even knew a few of them back in medical school_ , he assumed before blanching.  _Oh, Spirits, what if one of them knows_ Mako? _Shit…_

"Just remember, Bolin," Skoochy told him as they rounded a corner in the dark, dimly lit hallway, "she's very…unconventional."

"Right, right, serial killer material," Bolin said offhandedly, not really paying attention—he was still stuck on the fact that one of the surgeons might know his brother.  _Boy, that'd be some lecture._  "I get it, Skooch."

Reaching the end of a hallway, the young man put his hand on the doorknob and looked over at Bolin. "Don't say I didn't warn you, buddy," he said as he opened the door. Bolin rolled his eyes as they entered the room.

The morgue was a moderately sized, badly lit room with six slabs on it, all of which were occupied by naked, pale bodies, male and female alike. A plastic box full of rubber gloves rested on a shelf directly below a light switch. The large metal handle of the mortuary refrigerator was plainly visible from Bolin's position right by the door. Desks of all sizes were scattered all over the room, each holding a plethora of embalming tools, hairdryers, petri dishes, Bunsen burners, and several scalpels and other tools—including, Bolin noticed with surprise, a riding crop dangling from the handle of the mortuary refrigerator.

Skoochy was looking around also. "Hey!" he called, cupping his hands over his mouth. "You in here?"

The breath nearly left his lungs as the door to the mortuary refrigerator swung open, and a pale young woman with long, dark hair walked briskly out of it wearing a lab coat and protective goggles, holding a carton of test tubes and almost absolutely drenched in blood.

"Spirits, are you okay?" Bolin asked incredulously, fighting the urge to examine the woman for any internal or external injuries. What the hell had transpired inside of that refrigerator? He glanced at Skoochy, who seemed unperturbed. Was Bolin hallucinating the blood? What was going on here?

"In answer to your question," the woman said curtly, "the blood isn't mine. It's a collaboration of the blood of Mr. Lee, slab two, and from old Mrs. Jiao, over on slab four. I'm using it to see how many different species and subspecies of germs have taken root since time of death. Using a syringe was too dull, and I need blood from all over the body, so I whacked the bodies until they caved in with my riding crop."

"You beat dead bodies with a riding crop, just for a blood test?" Bolin asked, his eyes wide and his tone unbelieving.

"Yes, well, it isn't as if they'll be needing their blood anymore, is it?" she replied. Bolin's mouth opened and closed. "Thought so." She quickly took off her lab coat and protective goggles and tossed them on one of the naked bodies on slab number three. The woman walked over to a table and placed the carton on a desk while using an eyedropper to squeeze a few drops of the blood—arterial, Bolin noticed, taking note of the dark, nearly black hue—onto a petri dish. She glanced across at them briefly before walking over to the two, stopping a foot in front of them. "Skoochy, you're back again, I see."

"Yep. This is an old friend of mine, Dr. Bolin Lieng," Skoochy introduced, and Bolin nodded politely, still wondering what the hell was wrong with this woman.

"Good to meet you," she said, sticking her hand out and shaking Bolin's in a surprisingly strong grip before releasing it. From this close, Bolin could see her bright green eyes, a few shades lighter than his own. "Hmm. Which was it, Earth Kingdom or Northern Water Tribe?"

Bolin frowned, glancing at Skoochy, who was smiling knowingly. "I'm…I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me." She sounded like she was speaking to a child—and certainly not a very bright one. "Where did you just come from? Earth Kingdom or Northern Water Tribe. It's a simple question, Dr. Lieng, do try and keep up."

Bolin hesitated, looking over again at Skoochy, who continued to grin. "Er…the Earth Kingdom. How did you k—"

"I play the violin occasionally," the woman interrupted, now with her back to them as she continued to analyze the blood and took furious notes with her left hand. "And I usually have chemicals about, would that bother you? Potential roommates do need to know the quirks about one another. So, Dr. Lieng, what do  _you_  have to confess?"

"I—wait, what?" Bolin asked, now completely confused. "Skoochy, you, uh, told her about me?"

Much to his surprise, the young man shook his head, still smiling. "Nope, not a thing."

"Then who said anything about roommates?"

"I did. Told Skoochy this morning quote-unquote that I wondered if anyone in their right mind would rent an apartment with me, and now here he is with an old friend from college who clearly just returned from…just under ten years of military service for the United Forces, and was last stationed in the Earth Kingdom, most definitely the Si Wong Desert."

"How do you know about the Earth Kingdom?" Bolin demanded. It wasn't as if he was dressed in uniform or carrying his service pistol—how in the world had she guessed that he'd come from the Si Wong Desert?

She ignored the question, walking towards a coat rack near the back of the room and put on a trench coat, turning up the collar of it. "I've been considering a nice place near central Republic City. Together we can afford it. Meet me there tomorrow at five o'clock."

Bolin smiled tightly, looking at Skoochy for help, but the young man looked like he was watching the premiere of his favorite mover or the first pro-bending game of the season. "We don't know anything about each other," he said evenly. "I don't know where we're meeting, I don't know your age, what you do for a living—hell, I don't even know your name, and we're just going to rent an apartment together?"

The woman studied him closely before beginning to speak, her words fast but concise. "I know that you're an army doctor, honorably discharged from about seven or eight years of service in the United Forces. I know that you haven't been sleeping well, had a strong bout of pneumonia when you were younger and have survivor's guilt—and I know quite obviously that we have a mutual acquaintance in Skoochy Nakamura." She paused. "That's enough to get along on for now, isn't it?"

She walked to the door, opened it and suddenly looked back. "The name's Asami Sato and we're meeting up at two twenty-one B as in barium Baker Street," she stated with a wink as she nodded a goodbye to Skoochy. "Afternoon, gentlemen."

Skoochy waved nonchalantly as the woman—Asami—swept from the room like a leaf in the wind. Bolin stared, dumbfounded, at his acquaintance, who crossed his arms across his chest. "I warned you," the young man said, clucking his tongue.

In response, Bolin collapsed onto an empty chair.


	2. A Study in Ivory: Act One, Part 1

" _I know that you're an army doctor, honorably discharged from about seven or eight years of service in the United Forces. I know that you haven't been sleeping well, had a strong bout of pneumonia when you were younger and have survivor's guilt—and I know quite obviously that we have a mutual acquaintance in Skoochy Nakamura." She paused. "That's enough to get along on for now, isn't it?"_

Bolin shook his head in disbelief, the events that had only occurred a few hours ago still running through his mind vividly and clearly.  _Unbelievable_ , he thought.  _How the hell had she known all of those things about me?_

"…you going to order something, sir?" inquired a waiter who looked ready to snap. His eyes had dark circles underneath them, and a small bead of sweat trickled down his left temple—he'd probably been working for the last few hours on end, Bolin noted.

It took him a moment to realize that the waiter was speaking to him. "Oh." Bolin's ears turned red as he fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "Yeah—single malt whiskey, please."

He received his drink, thanked the waiter and took a small sip. Bolin's hand tapped out a relaxed pattern on the circular mahogany dinner table. Across from him, Skoochy—who had insisted on buying him dinner after the meeting with Asami Sato—was gratefully nursing a glass of red wine and ignoring the waiter's repeated attempts to see an ID.  _She got everything right—even the damn pneumonia, how the hell did she know I had pneumonia when I was little? I don't even think_ Mako _remembers that! It's freaky…but at the same time, it's actually really cool…_

"Hey, Lieng!" he felt a sharp kick to his lower leg, and had to literally clench his teeth from going straight into what Hiroshu had liked to call his MacGyver reflex and kicking Skoochy back hard enough to shatter his knee. "Are you daydreaming over there?"

Bolin rolled his eyes. "Call it what you will, Skooch." He took a sip of the whiskey, relishing in the flavor. Spirits, he hadn't had a good drink in…how long? A year? Two years? "So, uh…" he coughed, trying to think of a topic to discuss that didn't involve raids, AK47's and medical jargon. Damn, was he out of practice with idle chit-chat. "Er, are you still in college, then?"

Skoochy laughed and pushed up the brim of his beige cap. "You wouldn't believe it, but I'm actually going into teaching now."

Bolin's eyes widened, because  _that_ was definitely something he had not expected. "You're joking."

"I'm Professor Nakamura, or, well, I'm  _going_ to be one soon," Skoochy explained, leaning back in his chair. "Teaching bright young pre-med students, like we used to be." He shuddered theatrically. "Spirits, I hate their sorry little guts."

Bolin chuckled, shaking his head as he imagined his young friend standing in front of a group of young students, fresh from high school, teaching about the human anatomy and how to properly stitch a wound. Spirits, he'd just have to attend a lecture later—and possibly take several pictures. "So that Asami chick," he found himself saying, much to his surprise, because he hadn't been planning on bringing up the woman from the morgue in their conversation. "She's a bit—"

"Crazy?" Skoochy suggested. "Psychopathic? All of the above?"

Bolin's brows furrowed. "I was going to go with eccentric, but I guess that works too." For some reason, he never thought that she exuded any psychopathic tendencies when they'd met, but yes, she was a bit weird. Which brought him back to the question of how the hell did she know about his time in the United Forces? "Tell me, Skoochy: exactly how this woman take one look at me and automatically know my life story?"

Skoochy smiled an odd little smile. "That's just part of her charm," he said. "You're not the first person that she's analyzed like that, Lieng. You remember Taka Rei? He was that stiff with the handlebar mustache in fifth hour?" When Bolin nodded, bemused at what one of their old classmates had to do with anything, Skoochy pressed on. "She managed to analyze him having a substance addiction by looking at the fingers on his left hand."

Bolin almost choked. "You're not serious."

"Do I look like I'm not serious, Lieng?" the young man countered before shaking his head. "Anyways, why do you ask?"

"Well…" Bolin rolled the word on his tongue for a few moments before deciding to blurt out what he'd been thinking about since he'd met Asami Sato. "It's like she said: Potential roommates do need to know the quirks about one another."

Skoochy, who'd been taking a sip of his red wine, spat his drink all over the table and began coughing ferociously, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet. "Oh my Spirits," he gasped, clenching the table and leaning forwards. "You can _not_  be serious, Lieng. This is a put-on, right?"

Bolin shrugged. "She's willing to share an apartment with me, Skooch, for Spirits' sake. And I'm curious as to how she…analyzed me, like you said. 'The only study worthy of mankind is of the opposite sex,'" he quoted, remembering the lieutenant having said that once _._  "Who knows, maybe we'll learn things about each other."

The young man shook his head, laughing now. He wiped off his side of the table with a cloth napkin. "Well, then, buddy boy, you better study her, and I'm willing to bet you any amount of yuans—and I do mean  _any_ amount, Lieng—that she's going to learn a hell of a lot more about you in ten minutes than you'll learn about her in ten years."

The doctor laughed. "I'll toast to that." He raised his glass of whiskey, and Skoochy did the same with his glass of wine. "Here's to old friends, and a new life."

His friend grinned widely, teeth shining in the light of the restaurant. "Here's to the only man I've ever met willing to room with someone who beats dead bodies with a riding crop."

The two men clinked glasses and drank. "Cheers."

* * *

The small apartment complex on Baker Street was charming and well-maintained, set straight onto a street past a simple iron fence. A garden filled with wilting irises and magnolias bloomed next to the building, adjacent to a small café. The address 221B was written on a door in large letters and shone gold in the evening light.

Bolin, who had just exited a taxicab, stared at the door in front of him and swallowed, looking around for the pale young woman with dark hair and green eyes and finding her nowhere.  _Must be late,_ he assumed,  _or maybe she's inside…_

His hand was poised to knock when someone cleared their throat from behind him. "Good evening."

It took nearly all of Bolin's willpower not to flinch and reach for his gun, which he didn't have on him at the moment. He turned around calmly and placed both hands in the pockets of his light brown jacket. "Hello," he commented politely to Asami Sato, who was wearing the same dark trench coat with the turned-collar as last time. Her hair was swept up into a loose ponytail and her arms were crossed over her chest. "No blood this time?" he quipped before he could stop himself and braced himself to be insulted.

To his surprise, the corner of Asami's mouth quirked up in an interesting sort of half smile. "Astute observation, Dr. Lieng," she replied. "Last time I wandered out in the streets covered in a deceased person's blood, several passerby were…surprised, to say the least."

Bolin rolled his eyes. "No kidding."

They were silent for a few moments before Asami spoke up again. "You're probably thinking that by the state of the building and prime location in the city, the rate should be too high for the both of us to afford." It wasn't even a question, just a statement of fact. "Am I correct?"

His cheeks flushed, because that had been somewhat along the lines of what he'd been thinking. "Yeah, well, I—I, uh, haven't really—"

"Don't worry about it though, Dr. Lieng, we're getting a sort of…special discount," Asami explained, biting her lip as she knocked on the door and took a step back as the two of them waited for it to open. "Mrs. Shirui, the landlady—very sweet woman by the way—owes me a favor. A few years ago, her dear husband got hung up on the most awful sexual harassment charges over in Omashu. I was able to help out."

"Oh," Bolin said, unable to think of what else to say. "So, he was wrongfully accused and you helped him out?"

Asami chuckled, her laugh melodious and almost sweet. "No, no, Doctor," she said, shaking her head. "I never said he was wrongfully accused. See, the sentence back then in Omashu for sexual harassment was twenty years in prison. I  _assured_  him getting thrown into Kabuki Federal."

Just as Bolin was about to ask Asami another question, the door swung open, and an older lady, possibly in her fifties or sixties appeared in the doorway. Her blonde hair was fading gracefully into grey, and the lines of crow's feet around her eyes were etched deeply, suggesting that she smiled a lot—which she was doing now. "Hello, Asami, dear," she exclaimed, positively beaming. Asami smiled back, hugging the old woman briefly. "Oh, do come in."

Asami led the way inside as Bolin walked in after her, admiring the inside of the building for a moment before following the dark-haired woman up the stairs to the first floor. As he reached the top of the staircase, she opened the door ahead of them and walked in; revealing a small, cozy living room with possessions and papers scatted around in it.

Despite the clutter, which he normally couldn't stand, it was a finer place than he'd had in a long time. "This could be nice," Bolin commented casually. "Very good indeed."

Asami nodded, taking a quick glance at Mrs. Shirui, who'd accompanied them up the stairs. "Yes, I think so. My thoughts exactly. I mean, I can straighten things up in here…a bit—"

"Oh…so, this is all of your stuff," Bolin said in disbelief, gazing around the messy and cluttered room until an object on the mantelpiece above the fireplace struck his attention. "Ms. Sato—"

"Asami," she instantly corrected him. "Asami, please."

"Right, um, Asami, is that—" he paused. "Is that a  _real_  skull?"

"Hmm?" she turned around, holding some unopened envelopes, a takeout menu and a utility tool in her hands. "Oh, you mean Tougu. Yes. Belonged to an old friend of mine—well, when I say  _friend_ …" She grinned, and Bolin was genuinely fearful for his safety for a moment when he realized that she wouldn't attack an unarmed man, especially with an old woman in the room.

_Dear Spirits, when did I become afraid of a girl?_

"What do you think, Dr. Lieng?" inquired Mrs. Shirui briskly before suddenly winking. "There's another bedroom on the second level if you'll be needing it…"

Bolin was bemused for a split second before suddenly realizing that the landlady had assumed that he and Asami were together. His brows furrowed, he responded slowly and clearly, "Of  _course_  we'll need two, Mrs. Shirui."

"Yes, well, you never know." Mrs. Shirui shrugged and gestured for Bolin to bend down, which he did. "I do wish she'd find herself a nice man," she whispered, "but her little…quirks…are hard to get used to, aren't they, Doctor?"

Bolin opened his mouth and suddenly closed it, wondering for the life of him why he was discussing Asami Sato's love life with their landlady. "…I, um, er….erm…just…no? I mean…yes…I'll, um, just shut up now," he mumbled, his face flushed in embarrassment as he plopped down in an armchair right next to the fireplace.

Mrs. Shirui let out a small chuckle and picked up a recycling bin, balancing it on her hip and walked into the kitchen, muttering something under her breath. "…what a mess, honestly…" Bolin heard her say as their landlady deposited several dishes into the full sink with a clatter and then returned into the room, holding a crumpled newspaper.

"Asami, dear, what about these homicides?" she asked, holding up the newspaper as Asami stared out the window, her trench coat on the floor. "Seems like they'd be right up your alley."

"Yes, indeed," Asami responded offhandedly, still gazing out the window. "Very much up my alley."

 _Homicides? Up her alley?_   _What in the world does Asami Sato do for a living?_  "Can I just inquire as to what your 'alley' is?" Bolin asked, leaning forward in his chair in interest.

Asami turned around and looked as though she was about to tell him exactly what her alley was when a woman with dark grey hair, piercing green eyes, chiseled features, and decked out in a police uniform entered the living room, leaning on the doorframe. "I won't waste pleasantries," the stranger said in a hard voice, "so I'll just come right out and say it—"

"Yes, yes, there's been another murder," Asami stated, one hand on her hip as the other arm dangled by her side. "Where this time?"

"It's on Niwa Garden Way, near the Republic City Park." She paused. "Are you coming or aren't you?"

Asami tapped her chin in thought, obviously enjoying keeping the woman hanging. She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side. "I need an assistant," she remarked nonchalantly. "Who's working on forensics today?"

"Saikhan."

She groaned in disgust, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. "I can't work with that…" Asami took a quick glance at Mrs. Shirui, who was humming a happy tune while she picked up some papers off of the hardwood floor, and bit back an insult. Bolin fought the urge to laugh. "Well, you know I can't work with that idiot. I  _need_  an assistant." Her piercing gaze suddenly landed on him, and he almost flinched. "Dr. Lieng."

"Asami Sato," Bolin responded cheekily, hoping to garner a smile from her and failing. He coughed awkwardly. "Um, yes?"

"You're an army doctor. You've seen a lot of gore and violence, haven't you?" she inquired, taking a step closer to him. "Horrid deaths, blood, someone being strangled with their small intestine…"

_His hands were streaked with crimson, splashing scarlet droplets onto his uniform. A horrible pain shot through his heart as he caught a glimpse of the gaping wound in his commanding officer's chest. The blood was dark and glistening; soaking the fabric of the man's uniform and was beginning to turn the sand a sick shade of red underneath him…_

"Yes," he whispered, thinking of Chouko's gasping, final breaths and Yuhan getting blown up and how the corporal had had to pry him away from the lieutenant's still body. "Yeah, I have."

"Excellent. I've found my assistant." She turned back around to face the woman. "We'll follow behind in a taxi and meet you at the scene. Don't alert Saikhan of my arrival, his face turns the most interesting shade of puce when I show up to crime scenes."

Bolin spluttered nonsensically as the stranger gave Asami a curt nod, shot him a death glare and exited the room. He waited for Mrs. Shirui to go back into the kitchen and for the door of the building to slam shut before he exploded at Asami. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I don't believe so," she said, putting on her trench coat and grinning. "Oh, it's Christmas—an unanswerable homicide and I get to piss off Saikhan. It's a good day today." Asami paused. "Do buck up, Doctor. I wouldn't have chosen you for the job if you weren't qualified."

"Thanks ever so," Bolin retorted sarcastically. "Why on earth would you want me to join you on a crime scene, Asami? I'm an army doctor—"

Asami pointed at him as if he'd discovered the secrets of the world. "And that's just why I want you there. Saikhan is incompetent and I can't work with him. You, on the other hand, I can work with."

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you do, Asami? Why do the police come to you for help?"

She stared at him like he was something revolting stuck to the bottom of her shoe. "The police," she said, "come to me for help whenever they're out of their element, which happens to be always. I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world."

"A…consulting detective," Bolin said slowly, running it through his mind. "And tell me, Ms. Sato, what does a consulting detective do?"

"I consult, Dr. Lieng," she replied with the air of explaining to a toddler that two and two made four. "I would've thought that that was plainly obvious. And call me Asami, please."

He sighed noisily, wanting to hit himself over the head with something heavy.  _I see what Skoochy meant, this chick is insane._  "Fine," he said, because really, he didn't have anything better to do, and it  _would_ be right up his alley. " _Asami._  I'll come with you,  _Asami._ "

"That's my name, don't wear it out," Asami answered in a sing-song voice as she paraded down the stairs, Bolin right behind her.

He felt like he'd just witnessed the birth of the next Avatar or something as equally miraculous. "Oh my Spirits," he said, his eyes wide, "did you just make a  _joke_? That can't possibly have happened."

"Who cares about impossibilities?" she inquired, whirling around towards him once they were outside. Her eyes were bright with excitement and she grinned. "The game, Dr. Lieng, is on!"

He couldn't help but laugh at her attitude.  _That's got to be the most…normal…I've ever seen her at, even if she_ is  _talking about a horrible murder. Everyone does have their quirks._

 _Oh my Spirits, I'm actually defending her. Why the hell am I defending her? She's crazy! She's a consulting detective! She has a_ skull  _on her mantelpiece! What in the name of Tue and La is wrong with me?_

Asami walked out onto the street and hailed an approaching black taxicab, whistling a happy tune under her breath as they both entered the vehicle. "Take us to Niwa Garden Way, please," she said sweetly, her tone much like Skoochy's had been the other day.  _I bet that's where he learned it from, too._

"Of course, ma'am," replied the cabbie, beginning to drive down the street. "Any place on the way in particular? Perhaps the Risha Deli?" He waggled his eyebrows, and Bolin instantly remembered that the Risha Deli was where all the young couples went on their first dates. He'd gone there once in high school… _ah, Miki Akan, I remember you. We'd had a blast after the crème Brule…_

"Actually, we're going to go to the crime scene, sir," Asami said, her voice so sugary and fake it could've given Bolin a zit. "I heard there was a nice, juicy murder and I just  _had_ to check it out."

"Ah." The cabbie was silent for a moment. "Of—of course. The crime scene. L-lovely."

As the car sped down the road, Asami took a quick look over at Bolin, who was staring at his feet and reminiscing still about the Risha Deli. "I assume you still would like to know how I knew about your military service in the Earth Kingdom."

"Yes," he said.  _I swear she's got to be psychic or something._  "Uh, how  _did_  you know, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I didn't know, Doctor, I simply observed. Your haircut and posture clearly exuded military, and Skoochy introduced you as a doctor, and then I thought, must be a soldier, he is obviously a medical man, thus—army doctor." She paused. "Shall I go on?"

Bolin nodded fervently, hoping he didn't look like too much of an idiot. "Yes, please. How'd you know I was discharged? I could've quit."

"You were wounded in your shoulder, weren't you?" When Bolin nodded, she pressed on. "Yes, I assumed so. You don't walk with a limp or a cane or use a wheelchair, so you couldn't have been shot in the leg or the back. I did notice you wincing slightly as you gripped the railing on the staircase when you were coming up, so I wondered if perhaps you'd gotten shot in the shoulder—your left one, of course. You obviously enjoyed the military, having been in it for so long, so you wouldn't have quit—thus, discharged. But you don't seem like a fellow who would've gotten himself a dishonorable discharge, add your shoulder wound into the mix and I figured you'd been honorably discharged.

"I struggled a bit with the Earth Kingdom versus Northern Water Tribe, because they're the only continents at war right now. I was going to go and say Water Tribe, but then I noticed that you had a suntan, and obviously the Northern Water Tribe doesn't get too much sun—thus Earth Kingdom. Si Wong Desert is the biggest war zone, so it wasn't much of a shot in the dark to assume you'd been stationed there. The trinket on your wrist, the metal bracelet with the national emblem of the Earth Kingdom dangling from it also clued me in. The time you spent there was, believe it or not, a lucky guess."

The corner of her mouth quirked up again as she continued. "The rest of it was easy from there. Dark circles under your eyes—obviously you haven't been sleeping well. I assume nightmares, and since you're a doctor, an army doctor, I'm going to take it one step further and say that you're dreaming of the men that you failed to save—ergo, survivor's guilt. The pneumonia was deduced by the slight shallowness to your breath—it was serious, and you were younger, but not  _too_  young, so I'd say when you were ten or eleven years old. Now, Doctor," her voice grew mischievous. "Must I really explain as to how I knew that we have a mutual acquaintance in Skoochy Nakamura?"

Bolin's mouth opened and closed several times in awe. "That," he said, choosing his words carefully, "was amazing."

Asami, much to his surprise, actually looked taken aback…and slightly flattered.  _Had no one ever complimented her before or something?_  "You…you really think so?"

Bolin raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? Asami, that was incredible." He paused. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Spirits, no," she immediately responded, shaking her head. "No, er, they usually just tell me to fuck off."

Bolin let out a surprised bark of laughter just as the cab pulled up to a small house right on the corner of Niwa Garden Way surrounded by caution tape, police officers and flashing sirens of the police cars. "Thanks," she said, paying the cabbie a handful of crumpled yuans before exiting the vehicle along with Bolin.

Asami smiled. "Well, Dr. Lieng," she said, "welcome to your first crime scene."


	3. A Study in Ivory: Act One, Part 2

" _Open up!" Bolin yelled, pounding furiously on the door of a small tavern. Sergeant Kimiri was supporting Corporal Takumi, whose eyes were glassy. A bandage had been hastily wrapped around his side, where a sniper had gotten him with a bullet. Yuhan had driven them as fast as he could through the rugged terrain, trying to make it hastily to another town where the corporal could receive better medical support than Bolin could provide in the field._

 _Of course, none of them had factored that the damn so-called 'New Freedom Fighters' would decide to stage an air raid right at that_ second.

" _Come on, open up already, damn it!" Bolin repeated, banging on the door with his fist before sending a hopeless look to Chouko, who looked solemn. "Sir, they aren't—"_

" _I know they aren't, Doc," Chouko said heavily, taking a look over at Kimiri and Takumi. "Kimiri, how's Takumi?"_

" _Not doing so well, sir," she responded, shifting on her heels in order to support him better. "We need to get him to safety otherwise infection will set in and…" The unspoken threat of death hung ominously in the air._

_Takumi took quick breaths, his face pinching with pain. "L-Lieutenant…d-didn't…want to…g-go like—like this…don't…wanna d-die…please, Spirits…I don't w-wanna die—"_

" _You're not dying," Chouko said sharply. When Takumi began to shake his head, the lieutenant held up a hand in protest. "That's an_ order,  _Corporal."_

" _Y-yes…sir…"_

" _Damnit, Lieng, move out of the way," ordered Chouko, shoving the earthbender out of the way and pulled out a gun. Out of reflex, Kimiri, Yuhan and Bolin all took several quick steps back. Not hesitating, Chouko pulled the trigger, causing the doorknob to explode, sparks flying in every direction. The lieutenant kicked open the door with all of his strength, causing the few residents inside to scream in terror._

" _We aren't with the New Freedom Fighters," he immediately assured them, gesturing for the rest of the squad to come in, which they did, albeit carefully and with their hands in the air. "I'm Lieutenant Kai Chouko, United Forces. These are my men—and woman," he added cheekily just as Kimiri shut the door behind them. "This man's injured, and he needs to get him someplace stable for surgery. Doc, you think you can fix him up here?"_

 _Bolin nodded, almost offended. Of_ course _he could. "Supplies are almost out though, gonna have to replenish them when we get back to base," he said. "As for now, it's a standard procedure. I need a penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and—"_

_The rest of his words were cut off by the loud screech of an air raid siren, along with the screams of civilians hiding under the tables inside the tavern._

" _And a fifth of whiskey!" he shouted, trying to make himself heard over the commotion. "Now!"_

Bolin winced at the shrill noises of the sirens blaring and fought the urge to squint against the bright lights of the police cars, which absolutely surrounding the small residential house on the corner of Niwa Garden Way. Even though he'd been discharged for more than three months now, he still couldn't shake the urge to duck and cover whenever he heard police cars coming down the street—the doctor couldn't help but think of that fateful day in the tavern and many others, when his unit had narrowly escaped the air raids.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The annoyed voice made his head shoot up just in time to see Asami give a balding, paunchy-faced man a dirty look.

"Ah, Captain Saikhan," Asami sighed, one hand on her hip as she rubbed her forehead with the other in a common expression of annoyance. "A pleasure as always. If you must know, we're here to see Chief Beifong."

Saikhan rolled his eyes. "And why in the name of Tue and La did Chief Beifong invite you to a crime scene?"

"I think she wants me to fix the victim's piano," she retorted, sarcasm fairly dripping off her words. "Do use your imagination, Captain. Even I know that you're not quite as stupid as that."

Offended, Saikhan opened his mouth to retaliate, and then caught sight of Bolin. "Um, who's this?"

"This is Dr. Lieng," Asami said patronizingly, looking down her nose at the captain. "He's a…colleague of mine. Dr. Lieng, it is my distinct displeasure to introduce you to Captain Saikhan, living proof that Neanderthals still inhabit the Four Nations."

Bolin nearly choked on his laughter, but managed to nod in greeting at Saikhan, who still looked like he'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. "What, did he follow you home or something, Sato?"

Before Bolin could tell the captain off—with a few curse words thrown in for good measure—the same older woman from earlier walked over to them, shaking her head in exasperation. "About time you showed up, Asami," she stated, her words clipped and to the point. "And you brought your friend too, I see."

"Ma'am." Bolin nodded, standing up straight but still felt extremely uncomfortable, like the woman's eyes could see into his soul. He stuck out his hand. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise, Doctor," she responded curtly, shook his hand with a firm grip and released it. "Captain Saikhan, we have a job to do here, so I suggest that we should just get on with it."

"But Chief Beifong," whined Saikhan, obviously unaware that he sounded like a petulant toddler, "she did—"

"I don't care what she did," snapped Beifong, a warning tone clearly embellished in her voice. Saikhan gulped. "Our priority right now is to figure out who killed this victim, and we will use  _whatever_  means necessary in order to do so. Am I understood, Captain?"

Saikhan nodded, sending a death glare at Asami before skulking off, muttering curse words under his breath.

"Right." Asami clapped her hands together, causing Bolin to flinch. "If the drama is over, then I believe that we have a murder victim?" Out of her pocket, she pulled a pair of blue latex gloves, which she handed to him. "Doctor, please put these gloves on," ordered Asami, which Bolin did, a bit bemused. He flexed his fingers a few times before he looked back up, saw Beifong and Asami several steps ahead of him, and followed the two women towards the house.

"I can give you five minutes, Asami, and that's it," Beifong said brusquely, opening the front door. "Think you'll be able to figure out the victim's life story by then?"

A muscle twitched in Asami's jaw even as she arched her neck as proudly as any racehorse. "Of course I can," she replied, her tone disbelieving as though the woman had asked her whether or not the sky was blue. Bolin fought the urge to snicker and instead shoved his hands into his coat pockets.  _Talk about pride issues…_

Beifong sauntered down the hallway and led the two up a short flight of stairs. Just before they reached the landing, Bolin grabbed Asami's arm, causing her to whirl around in surprise. "What am I doing here?" he whispered furiously. "Really, what the hell am I here for?"

Asami looked taken aback for the briefest of seconds before her attitude became nonchalant once more. "You're helping me make a point."

"Helping you make—Asami, there is a person lying  _dead_  in that room over there," Bolin exclaimed, gesturing to the small room that Beifong was standing impatiently by.

"That's an astounding observation, Doctor, but I was hoping that you'd try and probe deeper," Asami retorted, wrenching her arm out of Bolin's grip and ambled casually into the room. Bolin gritted his teeth— _why the hell did I bother coming with her again?_ —and followed her a few seconds later.

The moment he set foot inside the modernly-furnished bedroom, Bolin's nose instantly wrinkled at the sour, rancid stench of dried blood mixed with the acrid scent of old perfume. His eyes were immediately drawn to the large, grisly letters spelling 復仇 across the wall adjacent to him, Asami and Beifong, along with the dead body.

The victim, who was a young man in his early to late forties, lay in the fetal position with twisted limbs and his face screwed up in pure, undiluted agony. His clothes, which were dark pants, a short-sleeved white shirt soaked with blood and an ivory sash tied around his waist, were an offset to his pale skin and spiky black hair, meaning that the victim was most likely from the Fire Nation. He'd need to take a closer look to be sure, of course…

Asami was staring at the victim with an extremely perplexing look on her face as she paced back and forth around it, occasionally squatting down and inspecting the body's clothing. "I'm dissatisfied, Beifong," she finally stated, looking around the room as if searching for more evidence. "Too much is missing for anything to be conclusive."

Beifong's eyebrows rose. "Really, Asami? And here I was thinking that you'd find a wrinkle on the victim's toe that signified he'd been bitten by a radioactive bumblefly or something."

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards and then immediately downwards. Bolin turned around to see Saikhan leaning casually against the doorframe, obviously hoping to contribute something to the conversation. "Hello again. Thought you might need my—"

"Shut up, Saikhan, your voice is like fingernails on the chalkboard of my life," snapped Asami, kneeling next to the body again and effectively silencing the police captain. Beifong glared at Saikhan, gesturing for him to leave, which he did. "Dr. Lieng, what do you think about him?"

He was well and thoroughly caught off guard by the question. "Uh…about Saikhan?"

Asami looked disgusted, angry, relieved and amused all at once. Beifong grimaced, but it looked like she was trying to cover up a smirk. "Spirits _,_ not about that incompetent fool. About the  _body_. You're a medical man, I need your opinion."

"Hold on," Beifong interrupted, "why? There's a whole team of medical examiners right outside."

"You know just as well as I do that they won't work with me, Beifong," Asami retorted before sending another imploring look at Bolin. "I'm afraid that he's quite crucial to my deducing process. I need his opinion."

Bolin glanced at Beifong, because he wasn't stupid enough to touch a dead body without a police officer's permission, and the chief gave him a nod and said, albeit irritably, "Do as she says and by all means, help yourself. I'll be outside."

Bemused, Bolin walked over to the body and squatted down by it, taking note of the surroundings while he probed the victim's chest.  _Blood splatter around the body and pooling—rigor mortis is starting to set in, he's only been dead for a few hours._  He checked under the eyelids.  _Bloodshot, no hemorrhage, might've been drinking._  He lifted the victim's right hand and looking at the skin before turning back to Asami, who was leaning against the wall and looked like she hadn't a care in the world. "Been dead for a few hours, might've been drinking," he reported to the woman, "but he asphyxiated and choked on his own vomit. Could've been a seizure that did it, most likely drugs."

His new roommate gave him an inscrutable look. "Very good, Doctor."

Bolin's eye twitched. Asami had praised him in the kind of tone used when a pet did a clever trick. His eye roll was abruptly cut off by Beifong entering the room impatiently, a new officer on her tail with the name 'Song' embroidered on his uniform. "I said five minutes, Asami, it's been seven. What do you have?"

Asami's lips tilted upward into a smile—obviously, she'd been looking forward to sharing her thoughts since Beifong had left the room. "Victim is in his late forties. He's used to being outdoors, fit and very strong, smokes cigars, played kuai ball in his youth but had to stop due to a debilitating injury, had been drinking the night of his death, but his drink was drugged, and was married…along with having a newborn child."

Beifong cursed under her breath. "Oh, for Spirits' sake, Asami, if you're just making this up…"

Asami rolled her eyes, shooting Bolin an 'I-can't-believe-what-an-idiot-she-is' look. "Making this up? I don't  _make things up,_  Beifong, as you well know. I  _deduce._  Do engage your brain once in a while."

Feeling that he needed to intervene before more insults and blows were exchanged, Bolin spoke up, his tone incredulous. "How in the world did you figure all of that out?"

"Dear Spirits—what is it like in your empty little minds? It must be so dull," remarked Asami, beginning to pace around the room, gesturing wildly. "Somewhere out there a village must be missing its idiot…look. He's wearing hiking boots, splattered with dirt and grime that he doesn't bother cleaning, faded red shoelaces that he's fixed himself rather than get new ones. His leg muscles are firm, meaning he's done a lot of walking; add that to the hiking boots, meaning he's used to spending time outdoors."

"What if they aren't his, though?" Bolin asked curiously. "Maybe the killer put them on the victim?"

In response, Asami wrenched off the boot from the victim's foot, showing them all the inside of the shoe. Bolin tried not to wrinkle his nose at the odor. "These shoes have  _clearly_ been broken into. Now, if we're really going to go off onto the miniscule chance that the killer wears the same size shoes as the victim and decided to slip him on to avoid suspicion, our victim has the most common hiking injuries in the book right here—blisters on his foot, and Doctor Lieng, what do you call when the kneecap tracks?"

He started. "Er, patellofemoral syndrome."

"Yes, thank you, patellofemoral syndrome. He has that, cuts and scrapes right above his ankles—"

"Okay, fine," Beifong interrupted. "Okay. What else? How'd you know he smoked cigars?"

Asami dropped the boot and reached into her pocket, pulling out a cigar trimmer. "Found this in the right pocket of the victim's pants. If that's not obvious enough for you, the victim's fingers on his left hand, more specifically his thumb and pointer finger, allowed me to solve this oh-so-perplexing fact: his two fingers have yellow tobacco stains on them." She paused, letting that sink in. "As for the kuai ball injury, Doctor Lieng can testify that the victim has a rotator cuff tear in his shoulder. Judging by his Fire Nation ancestry, he's obviously played kuai ball, and he was probably pretty good at it. The injury is pretty old, as is the victim, so he probably got it during his youth."

Bolin couldn't hold it in any longer. "That's brilliant," he said admiringly. Asami gave him a bewildered look, and he instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry. I—I'll shut up."

"No, it's…fine," muttered Asami, two spots of pink high on her cheekbones.  _Did I actually embarrass her? She_ did  _say that no one really pays her compliments…but that was_ amazing. _I'd give my left arm to be able to do that._  "A-Anyways, the victim is married, judging by the wedding ring on his finger—keeps it polished, obviously cares about his wife and loves her otherwise he probably wouldn't keep the ring in tip-top shape. Newborn is easily identified by the picture in his wallet," she stated, taking out the victim's wallet and showing Bolin, Beifong and Song the black-and-white image of an infant girl. "The picture's recent, meaning the baby is still a baby and not a teenage girl by now. He'd have kept more pictures of her if she was older, documenting a year at a time like some people do. The offspring doesn't really look like him though…might be a bastard, or just looks particularly like the mother—"

"And that's all well and good," Beifong stated, "but why is the word revenge written on that wall?"

"The killer obviously wrote it, Chief," Bolin chimed in. "Didn't he, Ms. S—er, Asami?"

"Thank you, Dr. Lieng, for being the only one in the room with the briefest semblance of common sense," replied Asami. "Of  _course_  the killer wrote it. People don't normally write 'revenge' in blood for shits and giggles. 'An eye for an eye', or so to speak—"

"Wait, wait," interrupted Song. Bolin was annoyed, having really wanted to see what Asami's mind-blowing deductions would uncover next. "Hold on. If he went out to drink, then why is dressed like he's ready for an outdoor hike? Wouldn't he have worn a suit or something?"

Asami snorted. "Obviously, Officer Song, even to a simple mind belonging to someone like you, this man is from the Fire Nation. He's here on vacation, renting a room in this tenement house—or just to get away from his family. Thus, he just got off of the ship, didn't want to go to the hotel room and get himself dolled up, goes into a bar in his comfort clothing—which is the clothing that he's wearing now, to be clear—and buys a drink that he doesn't know is drugged, drinks it, and then dies a few hours later. Is that clear, Officer?"

"C-crystal, ma'am," stammered Song, taking a step backwards and looked ashamed that he'd even bothered opening his mouth.

"As I was saying, I don't know how, but it's murder, all of them. They're not only killings—they're  _serial_ killings. Same note of 'revenge', and same ivory sash tied around their waists. I love serial killers, don't you know? There's always something to look forward to…" Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh…" She frowned and she clapped her hands together. " _Oh!"_

"What is it, what?" Beifong asked immediately, her eyebrows shooting upwards. "Damnit, Asami, what is it?"

Asami whirled around to the officer standing next to Beifong, who trembled and looked like he wanted to piss himself. "Officer Song, did anyone try to approach the crime scene before the doctor and I arrived?"

"I…no…there—there w-was a d-drunk loiterer that was hanging around here for a few minutes after the body was discovered—b-but why does it matter?"

"Why does it matter?" Asami repeated, her tone disbelieving before she turned to Beifong. "I'm afraid, Chief Beifong, that your entire precinct needs to be replaced—the officer standing next to you could've earned his sergeant's stripes tonight if he'd been even the tiniest bit more watchful. The so-called 'drunk loiterer' was none other than the murderer himself."

Song looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die as Beifong shot him a glare. "Officer Song, get out of my sight," she spat, and the officer ran out the door. "Now what?" the chief asked with her hands on her hips. "Do you know who killed this man or not, Asami?"

"I don't," said Asami, "but I do know a person who might. Several people, actually. Doctor, follow me, if you please. Chief Beifong, have a pleasant evening." She hurried out of the room, her hair flying behind her as she ran down the hallway. A few seconds later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut.

Bolin, with a shake of his head, walked after her, but immediately was stopped by Saikhan, whose lip curled in apparent distaste. The doctor had only just met the man, but had already developed a growing dislike for him.  _Just what does he have against Asami?_  "You're not her friend, you know," the captain stated, arms crossed against his chest. "She doesn't have friends. Or colleagues, or whatever she introduced you as. So, Dr. Lieng, who the hell are you?"

"I'm…" Bolin didn't know what to say. Who was he, really? He was twenty-eight, an earthbender, an orphan with an estranged brother, a former doctor, a former soldier. He wasn't perfect, but he tried to do good and be good. "I'm no one. We—uh, we just met." He left out the part of them possibly renting a room together, knowing that the captain would probably take it the wrong way, somehow, and freak out.

"Okay, then you're long since due for some advice." Saikhan leaned close to Bolin, so close that the doctor could smell his breath. "Stay away from her."

Bolin blinked, because he had, deep down, expected the man to say something along the lines of that. "Why?" he inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"You do know why she's here, don't you, Doc? She  _likes_ it. The weirder the crime, the more she likes it. And one day showing up and solving it in one second won't be enough for the woman. One day, we'll all be standing around someone's corpse and Asami Sato will be the one that put it there."

"She wouldn't do something like that—"

"Yeah, she would," interrupted Saikhan. "She will because she's insane, crazy, nutty; whatever you want to call her condition. So, I repeat, Doctor—stay away from Asami Sato."

Bolin was spared having to respond to the police captain by Beifong coming out of the room behind him, Officer Song mumbling apologies next to her.  _Hope she didn't hear our conversation—that'd be awkward._ "Saikhan, get a move on, we need to get back to the station before it gets late," Beifong said, giving a nod to Bolin before sauntering off into the distance. Song and Saikhan followed, leaving Bolin alone in the hallway.

_Stay away from Asami Sato._

He shook his head in disbelief and walked out of the house, hoping to see Asami waiting for him, but his roommate wasn't there. Neither was the taxi that had taken them to the crime scene. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath as it started to rain. The few police officers still outdoors started going into the house, all holding files and flashlights. One of them shut off the siren from his car, and Bolin's knees almost buckled in relief.  _Thank the Spirits._

As he trudged down the road, the collar of his jacket turned up against the rain, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he whirled around to see two tall men in plain black suits in his line of vision, holding umbrellas to block out the rain. "Bolin Lieng, correct?" one asked in a deep voice.

"Yes, and you are?" he asked calmly, tilting his head to the side. Neither of them looked like they were holding guns on him, or overly threatening at all. The two were obviously someone's puppets, sent to do the person's dirty work.

"None of your business," deadpanned the other man. "We're going to have to ask you to come with us, Doctor."

He coughed. "Are you arresting me?" he inquired incredulously. Did they work for Beifong? What was going on?

The first man chuckled without humor. Even his laugh was perfectly monotone. Bolin fought the urge to snap his fingers in the man's face to see if he'd blink. "Not quite, Dr. Lieng. Someone just wants to have a nice little chat with you."

"And may I enquire as to whom?" Bolin asked, trying to sound professional even though both men made him unaccountably nervous for some reason.

A sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and one of the men opened the car door. "You'll see," he said simply. "Come along now, Doctor."

Bolin had enough sense to know that he had no choice in the matter and gave the men a quick nod, getting into the back of the car. The two hulks remained standing on the sidewalk as the car drove off into the distance.


	4. A Study in Ivory: Act One, Part 3

A surprisingly short while later, Bolin found himself in a small room that contained a pair of armchairs with a mahogany table between them. He sat in the one directly across from the door, just in case he needed to make a quick getaway. After a few moments of inspecting the room, the door opened, and a man entered, holding a manila folder under his arm and closed the door behind him with a resounding thud.

The stranger had dark hair with a few grey streaks in it, bushy eyebrows, wore round, circular glasses, had a thick mustache, and wore a three-piece suit that looked like it cost more than his house. He sat down across from Bolin, laid the file on the table and laced his fingers together in a prayer position, smiling like a shark-squid. "Hello."

"Hello," Bolin replied neutrally, although his mind was racing.  _What's going on? What did I do? Did I do anything?_  "Can I help you with something?"

There was silence for a moment, then, "You don't seem very afraid."

"Should I be? You don't exactly seem very frightening."  _Idiot,_ he chided himself.  _Idiot. Idiot, you're an idiot. What if he's a serial killer or something? What if this is about Mako? What's going on?_

The stranger gave a soft, partially suppressed laugh, almost catching Bolin off guard. "That depends. I've been told from different sources all over the Republic that I'm both the most frightening man they have ever had the displeasure of encountering, and then I'm referred to as gentle as a sky-bison."

Bolin rolled his eyes. "Okay, enough with the fucking pleasantries. I know that you didn't invite me here to have a tea party. So, tell me, whoever you are, why am I here?"

The man looked at him sternly, his eyes narrowed. "What is your connection to Asami Sato?" he inquired.

The doctor was taken aback once more—on one hand, he had actually been expecting that question, and on the other hand, he wasn't sure what to say now that one of his worst-case scenarios had been verbalized by someone he didn't even know. "I—I barely know her, we only met…" he looked away thoughtfully, and was surprised at how little time had passed since their introduction. "…we only met yesterday."

"Mhmm." The man looked unconvinced. "And yesterday you've moved in with her, and now, from what I see, you're already solving crimes together." A faint smile crossed his lips. "Should I expect a wedding invitation in my mailbox by next week?"

Bolin's eye twitched. Spirits, they'd only just met and the man was grating on his nerves almost as much as Saikhan had. "You still haven't answered my question. Who are you?"

"The closest thing to a friend that a person like Asami Sato is capable of having, Doctor." He paused, leaning forward over the table until the two of them were barely a foot apart. "An enemy."

"Well, isn't that dramatic." Bolin didn't realize that he'd said the sarcastic comment out loud until the man frowned at him. He felt like he was in the principal's office receiving a scolding or something as equally awkward. He stood up. So did the stranger. "Am I done here,  _sir?_ "

"Do you plan to continue your association with Asami Sato?"

"You know," Bolin began, feigning a pleasant expression, "I  _could_ be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that that is none of your business."

The man wasn't fazed and he sat back down. "It could be."  _And that's not ominous at all, you mysterious stranger. Why does everything have to be 'what is the sound of one hand clapping?' with these kinds of people?_ "If you move into two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a certain amount of money on a daily basis."

"And you would do this…why?" Bolin asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest. "Surely it's not out of the goodness of your heart."

"I'll pay you in exchange for information," he said bluntly. "Nothing too imprudent, nothing too complex. Just, well, tell me what she's up to."

Bolin raised an eyebrow. He'd been expecting that too, it just sounded strange out loud. "Why?"

"I worry about Asami…frequently." For a split second, the man's arrogant expression slipped away, making him seem about ten years younger. "We have what you might call a complex relationship, Dr. Lieng."

"Look, sir, I'm not here to be your therapist," Bolin snapped. "I'm not even that kind of doctor anyways. And in response to your question as to whether or not I want to be your…spy…the answer is no."

"I haven't even mentioned the price I'm willing to pay yet. One million yuans."

 _One…one million yuans? Holy shit._ Bolin's vision tunneled for a second at the thought of that much money, but he strengthened his willpower. "No."  _Dear Spirits, I must be out of my mind. I just turned down_ one million yuans.  _But then again, no. The money isn't worth it, especially if he's paying me to spy on Asami._

The man laughed briefly. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from her. Could it be that you, a medical man, a 2nd Lieutenant of the United Forces' Third Battalion, have decided to trust Asami Sato, of all people?"

"And who says I trust her?" he automatically countered, although his insides were reeling. Did he really trust her? Already? They had only met yesterday, for Spirits' sake!

"You don't seem the kind of person to make friends easily," the man said straightforwardly.

Bolin looked at him for a moment before turning his back on him and began to walk away.  _Insane—this guy is a completely insane, power-hungry criminal mastermind. Why did I bother going with those two overgrown goons of his?_

"Although," the man said just as Bolin's hand was on the doorknob, "if I were to look through your service records, I suppose I'd find you had excellent—albeit platonic—relationships with PFC Riya Sami, Sergeant Mila Kimiri, Lance Corporal Iko Raia, Sergeant Hiroshu Niko, Corporal Shen Yuhan, and 1st Lieutenant Kai Chouko—at least before their untimely deaths."

He stopped dead in his tracks.  _Chouko. Kimiri. Raia. Yuhan, Riya, Hiroshu. How did he know?_  The breath vanished from his lungs. His shoulders tensed and he whirled around to face the man. "How dare you mention my men against me," he said savagely, through bared teeth. "You have no—how dare—how do you know about my unit?"

"Your therapist thinks you have post-traumatic stress disorder, that you're haunted by your military service."

" _You're an army doctor. It'll take you time to adjust to civilian life…"_

" _The rest of it was easy from there. Dark circles under your eyes—obviously you haven't been sleeping well. I assume nightmares, and since you're a doctor, an army doctor, I'm going to take it one step further and say that you're dreaming of the men that you failed to save—ergo, survivor's guilt."_

A muscle in Bolin's cheek twitched repeatedly. His hand flickered to his belt again, and Bolin wished more than ever that he had his service pistol on him. "Who the fuck are you? How do you know that?"

"I have several  _friends_ in the military police, Dr. Lieng," the man stated. "And in the government. To me,  _Doc,_ nothing is a secret." He picked up the file, stood up and walked towards the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Bolin," he said pleasantly. "I hope we meet again, under better circumstances."

Bolin, as if in a dream, slid aside as the man opened the door and walked out.

" _To me,_ Doc, _nothing is a secret."_

" _I hope we meet again…"_

" _N-not…gonna make it, D-Doc…"_

" _You're not dying, not on my watch."_

_/.../_

_A duffel was slung over his shoulder as he walked down the pier, eyes searching for the taxi that he'd hired to take him to the hotel that the United Forces was paying for, sort of as compensation for the horrible shoulder wound he'd acquired. Like_ , "sorry you got shot and discharged, here's rent for a cheap as hell hotel that'll last you a week", _Bolin thought deprecatingly._

 _His eyes widened._ No way,  _he thought in disbelief as he saw his older brother waiting on the platform, holding a big white sign with their last name scribbled on it in black marker. For a second, he thought that he was going to cry, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and kept walking._

_Bolin went right up to his thirty-year-old brother, who instead of wrapping him in a hug, looked up at him and said dismissively, "Sorry, I'm waiting for my brother. You probably have the wrong person."_

" _Mako," Bolin whispered, the lump in his throat growing bigger, "it's me. Bolin."_

" _Bo—_ Bolin _?" his voice sounded surprised, as though Bolin had claimed that Tue and La were having a torrid love affair. "Oh, Spirits...I…I didn't r-recognize—you look—I'm sorry." Mako pulled him into a tight hug, his face buried in Bolin's shoulder. "Welcome home, little brother."_

" _Good to be back, big brother," he lied. "Why—Mako, ah, why are you h-here?"_

" _I heard that you were back and I thought I'd surprise you," he said, the excuse pathetic but Bolin was so happy to see a familiar face that he didn't care._

" _How's, uh…" Damnit, what was his brother's girlfriend's name again? Kotta? Kaia? "How's Korra? You two still together?"_

_Mako's face turned red. "She left me."_

_Oh,_ ouch.  _That meant he'd have to deal with not only protective-Mako, but brooding-crybaby-protective-Mako. Wonderful. Bolin was silent as he followed Mako into their rusty Satomobile, and plopped his duffle bag in the backseat._

 _Mako pulled out of the parking lot and started driving. "Mind if I turn on the radio, Bo?" he asked, his voice timid, as if he was afraid of him. But that was ridiculous. Why would his_ brother  _be afraid of him?_

_Bolin shook his head, signifying that he didn't mind. Mako switched on the radio, and a broadcast began transmitting._

_It was only when something caught his attention that he stiffened, his knuckles clenched so tightly they started to hurt._

"… _The only survivors of a unit in the Third Battalion of the United Forces were 2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant Bolin Lieng, MD, and Corporal Jiao-long Takumi. Lieng was given an Indigo Crux, along with an honorable discharge when a bullet broke his collarbone and shredded his clavicle. Takumi, who was given a promotion to Sergeant, is now leading his own unit in the United Forces and is the recipient of a Dual Service Acclamation Medal…"_

" _Do…do you want me to—"_

" _No," he said, his voice shaking. "I want to hear it." He turned the volume up louder, and then immediately wished that he hadn't._

" _1_ _st_ _Lieutenant Kai Chouko, with almost ten years of service to his name, was unfortunately declared dead on arrival once they got to an army base. He was awarded a posthumous Copper Sun and an Indigo Crux, and is survived by his wife, Penga, and their unborn son, who will be his father's namesake. It's a touching story, isn't it, Nyota?"_

" _It sure is, Shiro. It's not the first tragedy the Third Battalion has had, though. Over the past seven years, the deaths of PFC Riya Sami, Sergeant Mila Kimiri, Sergeant Hiroshu Niko and Corporal Shen Yuhan have saddened the nation, but hopefully—"_

_Mako switched the station off, and the silence that filled the car was louder than anything Bolin had ever heard._

_Oh, Spirits…_ Bolin shuddered at the as the door opened once more, and a pretty young lady walked in, wearing a sunflower yellow dress. "I'm Ming-Li," she said, her voice soft and distracted. Her attention was focused on a stack of papers in her hands. "I'm supposed to take you home, Dr. Lieng." She paused. "Any place in particular?" She sounded like she already knew the answer.

"Er, the inn on—" He paused. No. That wasn't his home anymore. "Never mind. Baker Street—two two one B Baker Street, please."

Later, the car pulled up on the familiar street, the brass numbers on the door gleaming under the light of a streetlamp. Bolin looked over at Ming-Li, who was shifting through the papers as if her life depended on it. "Listen—the man that I spoke to—don't tell him I went here, okay?" Then he paused and mentally slapped himself. "Don't tell me—you've told him already, haven't you?"

Ming-Li smiled across to him briefly. "Hit the nail on the head with that one, Dr. Lieng."

He nodded, resigned that he had probably signed away his privacy without even knowing it and made to get out of the car before quickly turning back to Ming-Li. "Are you—do you—want to have dinner this weekend?"

She chuckled. "It's a sweet offer, Doctor. You're just…" she paused. "Not my  _type,_  shall we say?"

Bolin felt like he'd been struck down by a bolt of lightning. His cheeks were red with humiliation. "Oh.  _Oh_. Okay. Erm…don't…have a good night."

She continued reading a sheet of paper with a mess of technical jargon scribbled all over it before suddenly looking up. "Bye."

 _That went well, you smooth talker, you._  "Okay." He got out and closed the door behind him, standing on the sidewalk and watched the car pull away down the street.

* * *

He'd barely stepped foot back in the apartment when the piercing crack of a gunshot echoed in the air. Bolin stumbled backwards and slammed his hand on the railing to keep from falling down the stairs and cracking his head open.  _Of all the days I don't have my fucking gun on me,_ he cursed himself,  _it had to be today?_  He carefully stepped into the room, his fists clenched in preparation for battle as his adrenaline levels skyrocketed.

Lying on the couch—in no imminent danger—with her feet stuck up straight in the air and a pistol aimed straight at the ceiling was Asami Sato, looking like the poster child for nonchalance until she fired another shot into the air, causing bits of the ceiling plaster to rain down on her.

 _Spirits, everyone I seem to have dealt with today is completely off their rockers. Is there any normality left in the Four Nations?_  "What the hell are you doing?" Bolin exclaimed in disbelief.

"Thinking." Her voice was flat, monotonous, and should've made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. Instead, he just felt annoyed.

"Well, Asami, can you possibly think without shooting into the ceiling?" he retorted, instinctually reverting to his usual sarcastic demeanor. "For Spirits' sake, that is a ceiling inside of the apartment we rent, not a target at a shooting range."

Asami rolled her eyes. "I am bored, Dr. Lieng," she informed him, and he managed not to roll his eyes at her with extreme difficulty. "This case, while intriguing, has stumped me for the time being, and I am  _bored._ "

"Do you know what people do when they're bored, Asami?"

She raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

"They don't fucking shoot bullets into a ceiling!"

"What do they shoot into ceilings, then? Cocaine?"

 _For the love of all that's holy, please just smite me down now._  "Don't be glib, Asami, it doesn't suit you." He paused, ready to continue berating her when Asami closed her eyes and folded her hands under her chin. Bolin rolled his eyes, walked over to the window and looked out of it into the street below.

" _To me,_ Doc,  _nothing is a secret."_

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Asami tilt her head towards him in interest. "What's wrong with you?"

"I recently met a friend of yours," Bolin replied.  _Scared the shit out of me too—I'm still pissed how he used my unit against me._

"A friend _?_ " she repeated in disbelief. "I don't have  _friends,_  Doctor."

"An enemy," he clarified, feeling stupid. Just why he had to be some psychopath's messenger boy astounded him. "He said he was the closest thing that you had to a friend, which was an enemy."

Much to his surprise, Asami seemed to relax. "Oh! Well, don't just stand there: tell me, which one?"

"Which one—how the hell should I know which one? He had dark hair with grey streaks in it, bushy eyebrows, and some round glasses, dressed like he had a stick up his ass—"

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?"

The question almost took him aback. "Um…" He debated lying for a split second before reluctantly nodding. "Yes."

"And did you take it?" She paused. "Wait, don't answer that. You didn't, it's quite obvious." Asami hesitated again before continuing briskly, "Pardon my language, Dr. Lieng, but you're an idiot. We could've paid for three years' worth of rent with the money he would've given you. Do think it through next time."

"Who is he, anyways?"

Her expression turned dark as she stared at the ceiling, her grip twitching on the revolver. He made a mental note to take it away from her. "The most dangerous man you've ever met in your life and  _so_  not my problem right now."

His jaw nearly dropped to the floor and his eyes almost bugged out of his head. "Right," he said, his voice tight. He walked over to her and wrenched the gun out of her grasp.  _It's like taking candy from a baby._ "Look, Ms. S—Asami, I am not in the mood to deal with your quirks right now."  _Especially not with the memories of my unit dying that were dredged up because of one of your fucking enemies._  "I'll be at the pub across the street, okay? Go there if you need me."

Bolin exited the apartment with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. Luckily, the drizzle that had been hanging over Republic City had vanished around the same time that he had finished speaking with Asami's enemy, so it was a nice, cool, clear night. He tilted his head backwards and stared up at the sky, admiring the speckle of stars that looked like salt on a dark black tablecloth.

"Spirits," he muttered before crossing the street to the pub and pushing open the front door, hoping that the atmosphere in here would be slightly less psychotic than the one he'd left behind.

He'd barely sat down at the counter and ordered a whiskey when a girl with short brown curly hair plopped down next to him, reeking of cigarette smoke. "One amaretto sour, please," she ordered, her voice raw and scratchy, like she'd recently suffered a case of strep throat. Bolin refused to make eye contact with her, not wanting to flirt with anyone tonight, but she leaned over to him, giving the doctor an impressive view of her cleavage.

"Aw, hell," he mumbled before smiling at her. "Hi! Um, what's your name?"

"Jaida," she boasted. "Jaida Kuji. And you are?"

"Um…" For a moment, he debated giving her a fake name to avoid suspicion, or even telling her outright that he wasn't interested, but he wasn't that cruel. Eight years ago, he would've been flirting with her like a champion and would've had her in bed with him by the end of the night. The times had changed, however, and he sighed. "My name's Lieng. Bolin Lieng."

"Nice to meet you, Lieng-Bolin-Lieng." She smiled cheekily, and he wanted to bury his face in his hands and never come out. Of course Jaida had to be one of  _those_ people. Bolin took a sip of his whiskey, relishing in the taste.  _I'm gonna need a lot more than this if I wanna survive the night._  He gave her an extremely fake smile, shifting positions and crossed his legs, resting his right foot on the lower edge of the barstool he was sitting on.

"So, Jaida, tell me about yourself…" he said, and instantly regretted opening his mouth the second Jaida opened hers.

"Well, I want to work in videos, but I want to be my own star in the video, because I want to be a pop singer, a rock singer, and write my own songs. And then I'm going to try to be an actress, because people tell me I'm a natural, and I'm going to write and direct my own stories, and produce the movers...what about you?" she finally asked him, her voice high and perky while he felt like dozing off. "What do  _you_  do?"

"…I'm—well, I was an army doctor for the United Forces, but then I got discharged—"

"Oh, that's just sad," she interrupted without a hint of remorse in her voice. "Times change, huh?"

"They do indeed."

Bolin, who had been taking a long sip of his drink, choked and almost dropped his glass.  _Oh my Spirits, I know that voice…it can't be, Spirits, please don't let it be her._  " _Asami_?"

"Who else would it be?" Bolin could've sworn that she had given him the faintest of winks before kissing his cheek. "Baby, I thought we were going to go to Asoka's, not here—oh, hello!" she said, pretending to notice Jaida for the first time. "I'm Asami Sato, and you are?" She sounded so different, acting all horribly cheerful and peppy. Spirits, what had just happened to the world in the last fifteen minutes?

"J-Jaida."

"Well, J-Jaida, buzz off, please. My boyfriend and I were having a nice evening before the likes of you showed up." She leaned in closer to Jaida, who was almost trembling. "Get. Lost."

Jaida scampered off, and Bolin let out a breath he wasn't even aware that he'd been holding. But he would rather have jumped into the sea by the Southern Water Tribe than say thank you to his roommate, so he rolled his eyes. "You ruined my date," he deadpanned, taking off his jacket and flinging it on Jaida's empty barstool. He felt much more comfortable in his white and black striped shirt, even though Mako had gotten it for him.

Asami, who looked immaculate in a purple short-sleeved shirt, dark pants and perfect makeup, repeated in the same tone of voice, "So?"

He opened his mouth to fire off an angry retort, but closed it. She  _had,_ after all, just saved him from an evening of hell. The least he could do would be to thank her. "Thanks," he said, genuinely grateful. "I didn't like that broad at all—"

"Oh, I knew that," Asami said dismissively. "It was really obvious from your posture."

"From my—" He closed his mouth. "Forget it. I don't want to know."

Asami laughed, a faint smile on her lips as she shook her head, her dark black hair bouncing on her shoulders. "You probably don't," she replied. Grabbing his whiskey and downing the last few drops, she slid it to the bartender and called, "Two more!"

Bolin rolled his eyes as the bartender set down the two drinks and flashed him a quick thumbs-up. Asami didn't appear to notice. "So…" he rolled out the word for a few moments before continuing his sentence. "Have you figured out anything more about the case?"

Her head snapped up and she beamed. "Actually, yes, now that you mentioned it. I've narrowed down the killer's profession—he or she is obviously a bartender."

"How do you figure?" he asked, still unsure as to how she'd deduced a drunken loiterer being at the crime scene at all, but didn't want to ask. It'd probably only confuse him further.

"Well, I deduced from the drunken loiterer that Song had seen earlier during the crime scene that he had to be a bartender. How else would one person find so much alcohol? Of course, it was all an act, she wasn't really drunk—he just wanted to see what was going on after the death. She's interested, very interested. Also, the victim's drinks were drugged. And who gives out drinks?"

"Bartenders."

Asami applauded. "Give the man a hand."

"Have you told the police this, Asami?"

"Dr. Lieng, there are four people dead because of this person. There isn't time to talk to the police, nor any interest on my part to do so. They'll only muck it up."

"Then," he asked curiously, "why are you talking to me?"

For a brief second, Asami actually looked uncomfortable and stared down at her hands. "Mrs. Shirui took my skull. I usually talk to Tougu, but skulls draw attention in public, you see."

"You don't say." Then something struck him as odd. "So, what, I'm basically filling in for Tougu—um, your skull?"

She shrugged. "You're not doing horrible. If you were, make no mistake, I would've told you to get lost a long time ago." Asami hesitated as her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. "Ah, you have a problem with it, Doctor. Who said something? H—my enemy?"

"No, it was…um, it was Captain Saikhan."

Her jaw dropped slightly. "Don't tell me you're missing out on danger and adventure just because of what that prick Saikhan had to say about me?"

"He said you get off on this. You enjoy it."

"The way I see it is like this. Some people enjoy reading. Some people enjoy painting. I just happen to have a more unorthodox way of having fun than others." She stopped talking and let a smirk play on her lips. "Saikhan enjoys roleplaying as an ostrich-horse while his lover acts as a jockey for fun." Bolin choked on his drink. "I've poked and prodded and teased him, but it's his idea of fun, so what can I do about it?" She stared intently at him, making Bolin feel uncomfortable. "You, on the other hand, Dr. Lieng, noticeably perked up when I mentioned danger and adventure. What does that say about you?"

What did it say about him, besides the fact that he was an adrenaline junkie?

" _You're an army doctor. It'll take you time to adjust to civilian life."_

And it would. He'd already been home for three months, in the city he'd grown up in, but he still flinched at the sound of cars backfiring and switched the radio station when any talk came up about the war. He put flowers on his fellow soldiers' gravestones every weekend. He was the model of a PTSD-stricken soldier.

He'd lived for danger and adventure during his seven years in the army. The adrenaline was what made him tick, much as he hated to admit it.

_I guess it still makes me tick now, too._

"I don't know what it says about me," he replied evenly. "In fact, it says nothing about me except the fact that I'm an adrenaline addict. And because of that, I guess I have no room to judge you about your idea of fun." He half-smiled. "Just so long as you don't introduce me to everyone as your skull's replacement. People will talk, you know."

"They do little else, Doctor. So dull."

"Yeah, that's another thing," Bolin said, finding courage in both the whiskey and the easy conversation he had going with her. "Don't call me Doctor, or Dr. Lieng—I mean, you  _can_. It just makes me seem all stuffy, you know?" Not to mention that it reminded him of his army days too much. His profession was what most of his unit had said before their deaths, pleading for him to help them. "Call me…well, call me Bolin."

"Okay, then." She raised her glass of whiskey in a mock salute and grinned. "Okay, Bolin."


	5. A Study in Ivory: Act Two, Part 1

Jaida pouted as she marched out of the bar, her arms crossed over her chest. It just wasn't  _fair!_  How were all the cute guys taken? That girl who'd said they were dating wasn't even that pretty. At least not as pretty as  _her_. Bolin Lieng, a  _doctor_ , and he was cute. Most doctors were just broody and stressed and just…awful looking. But not that guy _._  She practically swooned, thinking of his smooth voice and dark hair and his interested look when he'd listened to her talk about her dreams.

 _Stupid bitch,_  she thought, her lip jutting out.  _But Momma says that there are plenty of fish in the sea. There's bound to be another hottie out there for someone like me, right?_  Yes. There had to be, what with her long reddish-brown hair, dark skin, and big brown eyes. She went through a tube of lip gloss a week, wore great outfits—therefore someone had to notice her. Right?

Jaida shivered as she made her way around the corner.  _I really should've brought a sweater or something, it's too damn cold out in this getup._  She made a mental note to herself that the next time she went barhopping, she'd take a sweater with her.

She fumbled with the keys as she placed them into the lock and opened the door, wondering why she suddenly felt so…tired.  _Wonder if Huang's home, or if he's out playing Mr. Lone Ranger, 'get the fuck away from me, Jaida' today. Sick bastard. Hope he rots in hell._

Her hands flew to her mouth as she tried to unsuccessfully stifle a yawn, collapsing onto her couch. She could always get undressed later and wash off her makeup in the morning before heading to the unemployment office. Spirits, but was she tired. Why was she so tired?

As she was pondering her state, the door creaked open, and she opened her eyes, peering blearily at the front door. "Huang?" she asked, her voice slurring. "Is that you, babe?"

Huang—if it was him—didn't respond. Instead, he sat down on the arm of the couch and ran his fingers through her hair. In the back of Jaida's mind, she wondered why her husband was being so affectionate: he usually wasn't so touchy-feely with her. She shut her eyes again, trying to think over the lulling rhythm of his affections. "Shh," he whispered, and his voice sounded different. Was he drunk? Was he high? No, his voice wasn't slurred or lower than usual. If anything, it was rusty-sounding and sort of mellow. "Shh, darling. Were you drinking earlier?"

"Mhmm," Jaida grunted in assent. "Went out with Kaia and the girls to…a bar…" Spirits, she hadn't felt this tired since the end of her college finals. "What… 'bout you?"

"I'm fine, babe."  _Babe?_  He hardly ever called her babe. That settled it. Something had to be the matter. She tried desperately to force her eyes open and pushed herself up on her elbows.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying to sound no-nonsense, but came sounding slightly drunk. Hopefully he could read between the lines, even in this strange 'caring' state of his. "H-Huang, t-talk to me. What's the matter?"

"Can't I be caring to my wife, Jaida?"

"Y-you're not usually…like this, darling," she retorted, weakly. "And—I'm t-tired. Can we continue this in the morning, Huang?"

"Of course." That should've set off even more alarm bells in the back of her mind, but she was so exhausted at this point that she wouldn't have been able to distinguish up and down if someone had asked her. "Just one more question, Jaida."

He leaned closer, and she could smell his breath—a mix of whiskey and…something…clean-smelling. Like bleach. His voice came quietly and slightly staticky, like she was listening to her husband speak through a radio with a horrible connection. "Wha'?" she asked, wanting desperately to drift off. Huang sounded so far away already…

"How long will it be before anyone misses you?"

* * *

_Bolin was on his third drink and was heading down the blissful road to oblivion when he heard someone sit down next to him. He instantly tensed, and was about to tell whoever it was to buzz off and leave him be when he noticed who it was._

" _Whiskey isn't the answer to everything, you know, Doc," the man said, tapping a lazy pattern on the countertop. He recognized it as the United Republic's national anthem._

" _Hello to you too, Yuhan," Bolin replied, his voice dry and slightly slurred by the alcohol. The corporal looked awful, with bloodshot eyes and stubble that looked at least two days old. "And I like whiskey."_

" _Really." Yuhan's voice was sarcastic as he gestured to the nearly empty bottle of whiskey on the counter that rested between them. "I hadn't noticed."_

_There was silence for a few moments before Yuhan sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Where's Lieutenant Chouko?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled. "Does he know you're in here?"_

" _Chouko's notifying Colonel Jiang with the mission report," was Bolin's terse response. He wouldn't have wanted to be in that room even if they had paid him, with all the tears and the scent of cologne and blood and sweat—and of course, the overwhelming stench of failure. "He's not my babysitter, Yuhan. I can damn well go to a bar and drink if I want to."_ Especially under these circumstances,  _he wanted to add._

" _Does…does Colonel Jiang know about Riya?" Yuhan asked, and his voice shook. Bolin felt the slightest pangs of guilt in his stomach for brushing off the corporal's feelings—the entire unit had known how close Yuhan and Riya had been. "And Hiroshu?"_

" _I'd think so, yeah," Bolin answered wearily, wanting nothing more than to just lie down and go to sleep. In less than two days, they had lost two soldiers. He didn't need to be a psychic to know how badly it reflected on the Third Battalion. "Their families are in there too."_

" _Fucking Spirits." Yuhan swore miserably. No one in the bar paid him any attention. "Why aren't you in there too, Doc? You're the second in command."_

 _Because it was his fault that Riya had died in the first place. He had tried in vain to keep her with them, but had failed. The damn sniper from the New Freedom Fighters had shot her in the neck, grazing her carotid artery and had killed her almost instantly. Hiroshu had succeeded in shooting the sniper, but at the risk of his own life. Bolin couldn't face Hiroshu and Riya's parents and tell them that he had been the one to let their children die a horrible death. As much as he hated leaving Chouko to do it all for him, Bolin just_ couldn't  _do it. "I couldn't do it, Shen," he told Yuhan, slipping habit and calling the corporal by his first name. "I just couldn't do it."_

_Yuhan sighed, taking an empty glass and filling it halfway with the amber-colored alcohol. "It's alright," he said heavily, and took a small sip. "Lieutenant Chouko asked me the same thing, if I wanted to go and tell their parents. I couldn't do it either."_

" _And yet, by divine intervention, you all thought that I could," said a droll voice from behind. Bolin and Yuhan whirled around to see the lieutenant standing with his arms crossed over his chest. The corporal gave him a tired salute, and Bolin nodded. "Newsflash, Lieng, you're the next one to do the 'I'm sorry to inform you' spiel, got it?"_

" _Yes, sir," muttered Bolin. "How—how was it?"_

" _How do you think it was?" Chouko retorted, plopping down on the barstool next to Yuhan. "Riya's mother cried something terrible. Hiroshu's dad nearly fainted, and Hiroshu's mother kept asking us if we were sure. Like, no ma'am, we just called you here to inform you about your son's death on a whim. If he wasn't dead, he would've been labeled as MIA. Why don't they get that?" The lieutenant snorted derisively. "Goddamnit if my job isn't the hardest ever."_

" _My brother wrote me today, you know," Bolin said quietly. Yuhan and Chouko's heads shot up—both of them knew that his brother had written him less than ten times in his entire army career. "He heard about—about Riya and Hiroshu. Kept asking me if I was alright, and if I wanted to quit."_

" _What'd you say?" Yuhan asked curiously._

_Bolin rolled his eyes. "I said, and I quote, that I wasn't giving up the only job that I actually like just so I could work some boring, meaningless desk job like him, eventually get married, and have a house in the suburbs with 2.5 kids." He paused, gauging the others' slightly stunned expressions. "Wrong response?"_

" _Not if you want to get your brother off your back for a while, Doc," Yuhan answered._

_Chouko laughed. "It isn't all that bad, you know. At least in the boonies they don't have as much traffic, gang or drug problems. You'll sleep easy at night, trust me."_

" _Like you and Penga do any sleeping," Bolin retorted, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender to let Chouko know that he was only kidding. "Seriously, Lieutenant, when're you going to ask her to marry you?"_

" _When I feel like it," was the man's pensive response, sounding like a toddler. Yuhan snorted into his whiskey. "Besides, Doc, I kind of want to be able to afford a ring first before I propose."_

_Bolin winced, knowing full well how Chouko felt. His own father had proposed to his mother with a plastic diamond ring that he'd found in a cereal box because he couldn't afford one. The doctor hoped that when he had to propose to his significant other, he would be able to afford a real wedding ring. "Yeah, that's probably best."_

" _Lieutenant Chouko?" Yuhan asked, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. "Who—will anyone replace R-Riya? And Hiroshu? Has Colonel Jiang come up with anyone yet?"_

" _Yeah," Chouko admitted. "He talked to me about it once Riya and Hiroshu's parents left. Said he had some applicants lined up—a Sergeant Mila Kimiri, Corporal Jiao-long Takumi, and Lance Corporal Iko Raia. Nothing too special, but…" His voice trailed off. "What can you do?"_

_Yuhan raised his glass in a toast. "To Private First Class Riya Sami and Sergeant Hiroshu Niko. May they rest in peace—"_

" _And may the Spirits kindly receive them," finished Bolin, holding up his own glass and clinking it against Yuhan's. "Are you going to join in on our drinking, sir?" he inquired of the lieutenant, who laughed and picked up a glass as well._

" _Why the hell not?"_

" _Hey, Doc," Yuhan spoke up a while later, significantly more buzzed than he'd been an hour ago. "Y'know, y-you're the only one of us who doesn't have a nickname? I think that we should give you a nickname."_

" _What're you suggesting, Corporal?" Chouko asked, raising an eyebrow. "You don't think that 'Doc' is good enough for him?"_

" _Well, Lieutenant, sir, the way I see it, since Dr. Lieng's dad was from the Earth Kingdom, and his mom was from the Fire Nation, and since the Doc currently lives in Republic City…" Yuhan paused for dramatic effect. "Why not the nickname 'Three Continents'?"_

 _Bolin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Spirits, Yuhan, that's an_ awful  _nickname."_

" _2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant Bolin 'Three Continents' Lieng, MD," Chouko said before grimacing. "It_ is _a bit of a mouthful, Yuhan…"_

_Yuhan was not to be deterred. "I think it's a great nickname," he said stubbornly. "Bolin 'Three Continents' Lieng. Has a nice ring to it."_

_Chouko rolled his eyes and punched Bolin in the shoulder. "There isn't anyone who can stop him now, eh, Doc? He's got that gleam in his eyes, you see. If Yuhan has his way, Bolin 'Three Continents' Lieng will be etched on your tombstone."_

They had gotten home from the bar around eleven p.m., and Bolin had ended up collapsing in his bed, the amount of drinks he'd had swirling in his mind both yesterday and at that moment. Naturally, his new roommate didn't seem to be affected in the slightest. She'd been looking over at the newspaper when he'd stumbled into the kitchen that morning, and without a moment of hesitation, had said that Mrs. Shirui kept hangover cures in one of the cabinets.

Now, sitting at the kitchen table with a significantly smaller headache than he'd had before, Bolin rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, squinting at Asami in disbelief. "Exactly how do you not know who President Raiko is?" he inquired, pointing at the newspaper. She had commented something about how many plebs were making headlines nowadays, and he couldn't believe it. It was  _the president._  His former commander in chief, next to General Iroh and Commander Bumi, of course.

"Does it matter?" Asami replied. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. She reminded him of a petulant toddler. "Will he help me solve crimes? Will his very existence change the world? No. Thus, I deleted him from my memory."

Spirits, it really was just like arguing with a toddler. Except with a hangover. "You…you can't just delete someone from your memory, Asami."

"Oh, quite the contrary. I've done it loads of times," she said flippantly, and placed the newspaper on the table. "Do close your mouth, Doctor…Bolin. You look like you're suffering from whatever disease is constantly plaguing Saikhan."

"Which would be?"

"Constipation of the brain and diarrhea of the mouth," was her nonchalant response, and Bolin spat out the hangover cure all over the kitchen table and ended up drenching the corner of President Raiko's picture with his saliva. "It's incurable, and in his case, hopefully fatal."

"Tue and La on a broomstick," Bolin coughed. His face was probably bright red by then, but he didn't care. Standing up, he went over to deposit the now empty glass in the sink before sitting back down at the table. "Asami, that's rude."

"Please." She scoffed. "You've been acquainted with him, Dr. Lieng, only one time. I've been interacting with Beifong and her crew for quite some time, and I can honestly say with the Spirits as my witnesses that Captain Saikhan deserves a crueler fate."

"I thought you were working on calling me by my first name, Asami."

Asami rolled her eyes. "It feels strange calling you by your first name."

"Why?" he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because you never bothered to get to know anybody long enough to know their first names?"

She graced him with a smile. "Very good, Bolin." She placed a strange emphasis on his name, like no one else ever had, and he kind of liked it. "So, last night, we went over quite a few of your secrets." Asami bit her lip. "I apologize for my…boorishness…toward your unit."

"That's alright." He meant it, much to his surprise. Besides, berating her just didn't seem right. "How about some of your secrets, Asami?"

"My secrets are not so many, Doctor, you just lack the capacity to dissect them," she said loftily. "However, I will inform you on a few of my quirks, if you so please. I smoke the occasional cigar, but that's of no concern to you, judging by the pack of Marlboros in your jacket pocket. At times I have dark periods of depression, but it would be best to just leave me to my own devices once they strike."

Bolin considered this. "Bipolar?" he diagnosed. "Or is it something else?"

"Well, sixteen out of the thirty-six child psychiatrists I was forced to see during my teenage years also came to that conclusion." Damn it all to hell if she didn't sound perfectly normal while reciting this.

" _Thirty-six?"_  he repeated in disbelief. "No way."

"If you were to point at any mental disease in a psychology textbook, Dr. Lieng, then I guarantee you that some two-bit head shrinker has diagnosed me with it."

"And yet, you're proud of this fact," Bolin conceded. "Most children are proud of drawings they made in preschool or an A on a biology test. Not the fact that they were diagnosed with bipolar disease."

"Not so much…proud…as thoroughly entertained, shall we say?" Asami admitted before standing up and peering out the window. "Yes, there's been another murder!"

Bolin whirled around and looked out the window, but didn't see anything but a police car pull onto the curb. "You know that they could be here for someone else, right?"

There was a sudden pounding at their door, with the shout of, "Open up! It's me, Chief Lin Beifong, RCPD!"

"She feels the need to throw around her title as if she's afraid it'll disappear," Asami commented with a smirk at Bolin, who remained slightly flabbergasted. "Plus, I heard someone coming up the stairs while I was explaining my dealings with head shrinkers." Raising her voice, she called, "Come in, Chief Beifong!"

"Wha—oh, crap." How was he going to explain why he was only wearing boxer shorts? That would circle back to the precinct and around the city faster than the plague. "Asami, loan me your robe!"

"Are you crazy?" she snapped, her eyes widening. "Why?"

"I don't want her to see me in ragged boxer shorts—"

"Why? Would you rather have her see you in a red satin robe?" Asami countered. "Would you rather have her feeble mind go in circles wondering why I'm in here wearing nothing but my birthday suit?"

"What about my feeble mind and your birthday suit?" Beifong asked, coming into the kitchen. She looked as spotless as she had yesterday evening at the crime scene, though slightly happier. Bolin supposed that it was because Song and Saikhan weren't there with her. She raised a perfectly sloped eyebrow at Bolin, who flushed.  _I knew I should've worn a T-shirt or something._  "Nice outfit, Doctor."

"Not a word," he warned her, crossing his arms over his chest. In the back of his mind, he realized that he hadn't blushed this much since he met Commander Bumi for the first time. "Good morning to you as well. Where are Saikhan and Song?"

Beifong's lip twitched. "Song's been transferred and Saikhan is at the precinct. He didn't want to come by."

"No—he wanted to come by but you wouldn't let him," Asami corrected, picking up the newspaper and leafing through it. "Anyhow, there's already been another murder, hasn't there? Out with it—who was he?"

"It's a she," Beifong replied. "And according to her credit cards and ID, her name is Jaida. Jaida Kuji."

Bolin's jaw dropped to his chest. "Jaida Kuji?" he repeated in disbelief, remembering the girl that Asami had thankfully saved him from last night at the bar. "Can't be—I saw her last night."

"What?" Beifong asked, turning to him. Across the table, Asami drew her finger across her throat fervently in a cut-it-out manner. "What do you mean by that, Dr. Lieng?"

"Um." Bolin hesitated. "I went out for a drink and she was hitting on me, Chief. She scampered after a while…not sure why."

" _Who else would it be?" Bolin could've sworn that she had given him the faintest of winks before kissing his cheek. "Baby, I thought we were going to go to Asoka's, not here—oh, hello!" she said, pretending to notice Jaida for the first time. "I'm Asami Sato, and you are?" She sounded so different, acting all horribly cheerful and peppy. Spirits, what had just happened to the world in the last fifteen minutes?_

" _J-Jaida."_

" _Well, J-Jaida, buzz off, please. My boyfriend and I were having a nice evening before the likes of you showed up." She leaned in closer to Jaida, who was almost trembling. "Get. Lost."_

A muscle in Asami's jaw twitched. "So, let me guess, Chief." She placed a mocking emphasis on Beifong's title, and Beifong sighed as if she were used to it. "It's by the same work of the same serial killer as before, am I correct?"

"Y-yes." Beifong cleared her throat. "Yes," she confirmed. "Drugs in her bloodstream, and an ivory sash around her waist."

Bolin tried to picture the energetic, annoying, drunk girl that had been flirting with him last night lying dead somewhere with an ivory sash tied around her waist and an unknown drug floating through her bloodstream. The only thing he could picture was the man from the prior evening in the tenement house on Niwa Garden Way. "Have you gotten any information on the man that we saw last night, Chief?"

"Yes." Beifong actually perked up at this statement, and her lip curled as she gazed over at Asami. "Asami, we found his spouse and his child, they're coming down to the precinct later to be interviewed."

Four thousand volts of electricity couldn't have brought the consulting detective to her feet faster. "Excellent," she praised. "It appears you haven't left your brain in bed this morning after all! Who is she? When can I speak to her? I  _need_  to speak to her."

"Well, you'll be waiting a bit if you want to speak to  _her_." Beifong was almost smiling at this point. "Our man, Mr. TongXing, was gay."

Asami looked taken aback as she sat back down. "What? No, that's…that's not right. How…why?  _Why_?"

"Why was he gay?" Bolin repeated in disbelief.  _Of all the things to ask. I hope her parents gave her the 'when two people love each other very much' speech…you couldn't pay me to do that._ "I dunno, Asami, everyone has different preferences—"

"No, no, that's not what I'm talking about, Bolin! Why would the killer murder someone who was gay? He murdered Jaida last night because she was cheating on her husband. The other three before, Miss Nilak, Mr. Hideki and Mr Korei, they were cheating too. Why would he break his streak?"

"Maybe the killer is homophobic?" Beifong said tentatively.

"Possibly, but it doesn't make sense, at least not completely. He nails cheaters, people who should be in long, loving relationships but would rather have one night stands in cheap bars under the influence of cheap whiskey."

"Then there's an easy solution to your dilemma, Asami," Bolin answered. "TongXing wasn't in a long, loving relationship."

"For the love of—" Asami broke off, obviously exasperated, but shook it off and continued speaking. "He had a  _child!_  He loved his spouse enough for them to adopt their own child—or have a relative be a birth mother, possibly from the spouse's side because the child doesn't look like TongXing at all. They. Had. A.  _Child_."

"Okay, yes, thank you for the emphasis on their offspring, we obviously weren't aware of that the first time around," Beifong snapped. Bolin barely managed to stifle a snicker. "So how do you know the murderer is a he?"

"The bartender last night, Doctor…Bolin, he was of the male persuasion, was he not?"

Bolin nodded. "Um, yeah," he replied slowly, a bit taken aback of the way she had phrased the question. Then something struck him. "But…Asami, aren't I in danger from him too?"

Asami, who had been pacing, actually stopped in her tracks. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Yes, why  _would_  you think that, Dr. Lieng?" Beifong repeated impatiently.

"Because—because last night, Jaida was flirting with me, and then you came along and—"

"Oh!" Asami waved her hand nonchalantly, like she was warding off a bad smell. "No, if the killer was after cheaters, he would've nailed you then and there. You didn't succumb to her dubious charms, because remember, I was playing the part of your girlfriend. If you 'cheated' on me with her, then the bartender would've drugged your drink, and I would be kneeling over your drugged, bloated corpse right now and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Beifong wrinkled her nose at Asami's apt description, but didn't press. Bolin gave a small sigh of relief at knowing that he wasn't being stalked by a strange serial killer.

"So!" Asami clapped her hands together three times. "Chief, you can leave. The good doctor and I will be along momentarily—just give us a few moments to actually get dressed."

"Yes, that would probably be wise," Beifong commented. "I'll be at the precinct. Be there by ten o'clock, the husband and child are arriving at eleven thirty and I think that we need to go over some more sensitivity training. I don't want you to start stealing chocolate bars from seven-year-olds again."

Asami stuck out her bottom lip and pouted, looking all the more like a petulant toddler. "I needed it," she said in response to Bolin's perturbed stare. "It was for an experiment."

Bolin rolled his eyes.  _Somehow I doubt that_. "Uh huh."

Beifong checked her wristwatch with a sigh before heading to the door. "I need to get going. See you at ten, Ms. Sato, Dr. Lieng. Tell Mrs. Shirui that I say hello, will you?"

Asami flew out of the room the very moment that Beifong closed the door, her red robe flying behind her as she raced up the stairs. Once she made it up to the landing, she whirled around to face Bolin, who'd barely gotten up from his chair. "Get dressed, Bolin," she called, practically beaming. Rather than the fake smile that she'd given Jaida last night, it was genuine. "We've got a mystery to solve."


	6. A Study in Ivory: Act Two, Part 2

_Bolin was debating the benefits of paying one of the newbies to do his paperwork about their latest mission when he heard a knock on the door, followed by someone saying, "2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant Lieng?"_

_Much to his surprise, he looked up to see Sergeant Kimiri standing in the doorway of his quarters. "Sergeant Kimiri," he said kindly, took off his reading glasses and put them to the side. "How can I help you?"_

" _Permission to speak freely, sir?"_

_Bolin nodded, brows furrowed in curiosity. "Yes, go ahead."_

_Kimiri rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly and took a step closer to Bolin's desk. "Sir, this is—this may seem a…a bit strange. It—it's about Corporal Yuhan."_

Ah.  _Bolin understood immediately—he and Chouko had been meaning to discuss things about Yuhan at a later date. They'd both noticed him giving Kimiri the cold shoulder since she'd arrived, and it was plainly obvious why: he didn't like the fact that Colonel Jiang had replaced Riya so easily. "You're wondering why he's giving you a hard time."_

 _Kimiri nodded quickly. "Y-yes, sir," she admitted. "It's just—well, I've done nothing wrong to him. At least, I don't_ think _I have, and yet, he—he treats me badly. I don't know what I've done to him, and, well, I was hoping that you did."_

" _Mila." She gave a start at her first name—understandably, of course. He wasn't sure the last time he'd heard his own first name without it sounding awkward or coming from his brother's letters. "It's nothing you've done, trust me. It's just—well…" He paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. "You are aware why you've been asked to join Lieutenant Chouko's convoy, correct?"_

" _Yes, sir. Because Colonel Jiang requested me…and to replace PFC Riya Sami."_

" _Yuhan and Riya were pursuing a romantic relationship—you've probably heard about it too. If I know Yuhan as well as I think, then I believe that he wanted to marry her someday. But…she died, recently, as you know, and he's not very happy that Colonel Jiang found a replacement for her. Nothing against you, of course!" he added quickly. "I think that if you give him some time, he'll warm up to you. He's just going through a tough time right now."_

_Kimiri nodded slowly. "Should I give him some space?"_

" _Yes and no."_

" _Sir?"_

" _Give him time to grieve, but I want you to make an impression on him—show him that you're different from Riya. He'll warm up to you, I promise. He's a very nice guy."_

" _Yes, sir." The sergeant's cheeks flushed. "Is Corporal Yuhan the one that started calling you 'Three Continents', sir?"_

 _Bolin rolled his eyes, because that just_ had  _to come up. Even Colonel Jiang had heard of his new nickname by now. "Yes. His sense of humor is impeccable, too. But Tue and La, he can't come up with a freaking decent nickname to save his life."_

_Kimiri laughed. "Lieutenant Chouko keeps saying how it'll be written on your tombstone someday, sir."_

" _Knowing Chouko, he'll see to that someday," Bolin grumbled. He tilted his head to the side. "Is that all, Sergeant? Are the others treating you well?"_

" _Oh, yes, sir. Iko and Jiao-long are alright, and so are you and Lieutenant Chouko. It was just Yuhan I was wondering about, but…well, thanks for the advice, sir. I'll take it into account."_

" _No problem, Sergeant. Come see me anytime, alright? I'll be here."_

" _Yes, sir. Thank you." She gave him a crisp salute and marched out of his office. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Spirits, he hoped that Yuhan and Kimiri could learn to get along. Playground mediation was really more Chouko's style than his._

Bolin didn't have to see Asami's smug grin to know that his new roommate was happy to see Saikhan cringing in her presence like he'd been kicked in the nuts. "Spirits, Chief, when are you going to start warning me about  _her_  coming?" the captain asked, a whiny tone in his voice. "And why are you letting him come too?"

"Because," Beifong practically growled, "as the  _chief of police,_  I am in charge of whom I'd like to investigate crime scenes. It is my city, my precinct, and my list of people that I trust to solve murders, and if you'd rather not get along with Ms. Sato and Dr. Lieng, then I'd be happy to take your name off my list. Have I made myself perfectly clear, Captain Saikhan?"

Saikhan looked like he'd rather be on the receiving end of a root canal as he muttered with his ears bright red, "Yes, ma'am."

Asami's upper lip curled in disgust as she looked over at Officer Song, who was making his way toward the group of police personnel outside Jaida's apartment. "Great, what's  _he_ doing here?" she inquired of Beifong. "I thought you said that you had him transferred."

"I had his  _position_  transferred," corrected Beifong. "Unfortunately, I can't kick him out of the precinct without finding someone to replace him first, so Officer Song will still be with us for a while. I told him to consider himself lucky."

Song finally made it through the throng of people, and planted himself between Asami and Beifong, both of whom looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Hello again, Chief, Ms. Sato," Song said, sounding a bit winded. "Sorry to keep you waiting for so long—traffic really wouldn't let me get through. And I'm really sorry about letting the murderer go—"

"Yeah, well, you can stuff your sorries in a sack, Officer Song," Beifong interrupted him. "You should consider yourself damn lucky that you even have your job secured."

Song nodded so fervently that Bolin had to suppress the image of the officer as a bobble-head doll. "Yes, ma'am, I—I know, and if there's anything I can do—"

Asami held up her hand, and Song's broken apologies crashed into each other. "Save it," she said with contempt. "I have about as much use for you and Captain Saikhan as the world does for a near-sighted gynecologist. But Chief Beifong is the jurisdiction around here, as much as it pains me to say it. If she wants you to stay, then there's nothing I can do about it. I could probably pull some strings and get you fired from every well-respecting job in the city—not that they'd take you anyways—"

"Are you just going to let her talk to me like that, Chief?" Song demanded of Beifong, who looked both offended and mildly amused.

As entertaining as the conversation was, Bolin felt that he had to intervene before someone was arrested on the charges of attempted murder. "Alright, alright, ladies," he said mildly. "Knock it off, will you? You're both beautiful. Now, I believe that we have an actual murder to solve?"

"Quite correct, Doctor," Asami chimed in, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. For a second, she looked vaguely impressed, but it had to have been a trick of the light. He'd only known her for two days and yet he already knew that Asami Sato wasn't the type to be impressed by a simple comeback. "Beifong, where's the body?"

Beifong jerked her head in the direction of the apartment complex. "In there," she said shortly. "Come on." She set off at a brisk walk toward the building, flashing her badge at one of the officers on duty. Asami walked after Beifong, her stride long enough that she easily caught up with the chief in a few steps, whereas Bolin ended up jogging after them, trying to keep up without straining himself.

"Here we are," Beifong stated once they reached the landing. The door was wide open, despite most of the apartment having been sealed off with caution tape. A few forensics officers were taking pictures of the body and bagging evidence.

The room was practically empty of furniture except for a couch and a coffee table in the far right corner. Metal crossbars held up part of the ceiling near a large window, next to which an area was sealed off—presumably by the forensics officers who were either searching for more clues or wanted an area to rest.

Bolin swallowed heavily as he caught sight of Jaida's body lying face down on the bare floorboards in the middle of the room. He couldn't shake the image of her being alive, and breathing, and even  _flirting_ with him less than twenty-four hours ago to this…this empty shell of a human being. "Spirits," he murmured.

Asami gave him a quick look that bordered on sympathy and indifference. "Surreal, isn't it?"

"No," Bolin answered quietly. "Just thought…it's been a while since a person that I actually knew was dead."  _Not since Chouko,_  he recalled, trying not to wince at the memory of his commanding officer's blood on his hands. _And you're not going to have a breakdown in the middle of a crime scene. Pull yourself together._ "I'm fine."

Jaida wore the same outfit that she'd been wearing the night before—a short blue skirt, a tank top, and brown high heels—even though dried blood decorated her shirt and an ivory sash was tied around her waist, just like TongXing. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her face was frozen in a seemingly horrified expression…almost as if she'd seen who the killer had been.

Asami walked a few steps closer to Jaida and then stopped, holding one hand out in front of herself as she focused on Jaida's body. The three of them stood there silently for several long seconds, and then all at once Asami looked over at Beifong as if the chief had personally offended her.

"Shut up," the consulting detective announced, speaking it as though it were a suggestion even though it was phrased more like an order.

"I didn't say anything," Beifong refuted, sounding startled.

"It's not what you said. It's what you thought," Asami amended, sounding as though this was a conversation she'd had many times with the chief of police before. "Stop thinking. It's annoying."

Beifong rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Asami made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat as she studied Jaida with the same expression of an archaeologist inspecting the ancient ruins of Taku.

"Anyways," Bolin said, unable to stand the tension any longer, "have you gotten anything from Jaida? As much as I can tell, if the killer hasn't broken any patterns of his, then she's probably been drugged."

Asami nodded. "Very true. Not much else to tell besides that she's obviously married—the ring on her finger signifies that it's about a year or two old, not very many scratches. Even if there wasn't a ring, it'd be obvious. Her ring finger has a slight tan line, if you remove the ring, see?" She knelt down and worked the ring off Jaida's finger, carelessly placing it on the coffee table. "She hit on you last night, she's dead now. Had to be in a committed relationship for that chain of events to occur, didn't it?"

"True," Bolin said, filing away the information for later. He suspected that Asami already had, so he turned to Beifong. "Chief, have you had any progress on finding out which drug killed TongXing and the others?"

"Not entirely," the older woman admitted, running a hand through her short grey hair. "We've mostly been going over the victims' medical records."

"Find anything interesting?" Asami inquired, still kneeling next to Jaida and examining the ivory sash around her waist.

"Yes, actually," Beifong announced, and Bolin tilted his head, interested. Even Asami twisted around, seemingly eager to use the chief's information to add another piece to the puzzle. "After examining the records of TongXing, Nilak, Korei, and Hideki, Officer VinJi discovered that each of the victims suffered from hemophilia—the disorder where your blood doesn't clot normally, you know. Pretty rare, from what he told me. Bumping someone in the stairway could be fatal."

Bolin wrinkled his nose, and then something suddenly struck him. "Hang on. Since each of the victims weren't stabbed or anything that explains the blood on their clothes, and since there aren't any drugs that cause internal bleeding, then…then whatever drug that the killer drugged their drinks with has to be something that boosts blood-thinning ability and raises the risk of internal bleeding. Like, one good dose will leave you bleeding internally and dead within an hour or two."

"Any examples, Bolin?" Asami asked.

"Yeah, um, there's Warfarin—that's Coumadin, technically—or azole antifungals, maybe, but…no. Definitely Coumadin," Bolin said, sure of himself. "I'm positive it's Coumadin."

Asami stood up, beginning to pace furiously around the room. "I'll take your theory a step further, Doctor. Suppose the killer  _knew_  that his victims all had hemophilia. He must've had access to their medical records somehow."

"So what, you're suggesting he's a doctor?" Beifong asked curiously.

"No," Asami corrected, halting in her pacing, "I'm suggesting that he works part-time as a bartender, but he has a variety of medical knowledge that he uses to kill people, right? Maybe he's a pharmacist, or studying to be one. That would explain how he has access to their medical records and the medicine used to kill TongXing and the others."

"That's brilliant!" Bolin praised her, his eyes wide with excitement over the case. "Chief, when you dig through Jaida's records, let us know if she was a hemophilia sufferer, alright? Anything out of the ordinary in her medical records too—write it down."

Beifong nodded. "I'll get Officers VinJi and Jaya on it, Dr. Lieng."

The corner of Asami's mouth curled up in an interesting half smile. "And you say you're not prepared for this," she commented, seemingly casual.

The tips of Bolin's ears flushed bright red, but he said nothing.

"Alright, I'll break up the medical discussion for now," said Beifong, looking amused with the both of them and a bit happy that the case's information was all falling into place. "We can continue this after you talk to TongXing's husband and child, alright, Asami? And like I said, please be nice to them. I don't care if the case is underway, the fact remains that they're still people and need to be treated with respect. Got it?"

Asami rolled her eyes and mockingly saluted the chief. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am." She turned to Bolin. "Come on, Bolin," she said, beginning to walk out of the apartment and down the stairs. Bolin followed her. "I can get us a ride to the precinct faster than us waiting around in Beifong's car for traffic to ease up."

"By taxi, you mean?"

"No. A member of my homeless network runs a rickshaw operation. Cheap, ride's a bit bumpy, but he runs like the wind. We call him the Breeze for a reason." Asami smiled, looking almost fond. She turned up the collar of her trench coat and looked over at him. "Are you alright with that?"

Bolin's mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that a homeless man was going to take them to the Republic City Police Department by way of rickshaw. "Your…homeless network?"

"Yes. To put it plainly, my homeless network is an interconnected organization of vagrants all over the city that provide me with information about my latest cases in exchange for a yuan a day and ten yuans for a vital clue. My eyes and ears, frankly."

"Huh." As they made it outside the apartment complex and began walking toward an alleyway, Bolin tried to picture Asami making friends with tramps and practicing quid pro quo with them. It wasn't as hard as he thought it would've been.  _So she's a consulting detective with archenemies and a homeless network full of bribed hoboes. Well—isn't that just something?_

Asami put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle, causing half of the police officers at Jaida's apartment to startle and look over in confusion. Bolin squinted as he saw a pinpoint in the distance racing toward the two of them. "That him?" he asked.

"Indeed it is, Bolin," Asami confirmed, smiling at the tramp as he came to a full halt. "Breeze! It took you nearly fourteen point sixty-eight seconds to arrive," she said in a scolding tone. "You went over your record by six point two seconds. What's with the delay?"

"Been busy, ma'am. Ain't easy to be the only rickshaw operator in the city," the Breeze panted. He raised an eyebrow once he caught sight of Bolin, who felt uncomfortable. "Who's the guy?"

"This is a colleague of mine, Dr. Bolin Lieng. Bolin, this is the Breeze," Asami introduced crisply. "Breeze, how fast will it take you to take us to the Republic City Police Department?"

"Depends, ma'am, on how much you're willin' to spend on the likes of me," the Breeze countered, waggling his eyebrows. "Twenty yuans will getcha there in ten minutes."

"Fifteen yuans," Asami negotiated, "and a free meal over at the Risha Deli."

"That'll do," the Breeze nodded, and cocked his head to the side. "Say, Doc, do you think you'd be willing to tell me the time?" He inched closer, and Bolin fought the urge to push him away. Not only was the Breeze trying to pull a trick on him, he smelled like a badgermole had crawled into his clothes and died. "I'm a bit hard of sight."

"He's not stupid enough to fall for that hat trick, Breeze," Asami instantly refuted, rolling her eyes. "Get hitched to your rickshaw. We've got a meeting to make."

"Oh, then? A meeting? Is the Doc gonna help ya with that? Must be some meeting."

"You know, I  _am_  right here, you two," Bolin said, a bit irritated with the tramp, but not to the point that he'd been with Saikhan, Song, or Asami's unnamed enemy. The Breeze was more like a nuisance, like a mosquito-fly that kept buzzing around Bolin's ear. "Can we get going?"

"Feisty." The Breeze whistled, long and low before seeming to sober up. "Alright. Yuans up front or upon destination?"

"Up front." Asami dug into the pocket of her coat and slapped down three crumpled five yuan bills into the Breeze's hand. "This'll do, yeah?"

"It'll do. Hop aboard." The Breeze stuffed the yuans in the pocket of his pants and grabbed the handles of the rickshaw as Asami and Bolin both climbed aboard, clinging to the sides to avoid falling off. With a grunt, he lifted the handles off the ground and took off at a run.

The ride was bumpy, like Asami had warned, but it was fast and smooth going around the corners, much better than any rickshaw ride he'd taken in years. Bolin grinned as the wind rushed through his hair, blowing it in ten different directions. Asami's hair blew backwards, and her green eyes were bright and calculating as she looked around.  _Probably trying to figure out the case…Spirits knows I'll be no help with that. I'll leave her be._

In what seemed like no time at all, the Breeze had pulled up to the police station, panting so heavily that it looked and sounded as though he'd just had to run three marathons back to back with no water. "…here…ya…are," he managed to get out before dropping the handles to the ground and collapsing against the rickshaw. "…can I…cash in that…meal at…R-Risha's…n-now?"

"Just say I sent you and you'll get three full courses," Asami said, somehow managing to look regal while climbing out of the rickshaw. Bolin hoped he didn't look like an idiot as he followed her. "Owner owes me a favor."

"Does everyone in Republic City owe you a favor, Asami?" Bolin asked in wonder.

After a moment, she shook her head. "Not quite, Dr. Lieng. Out of everyone in Republic City varying on different sectors of socioeconomic status, then I'd say that about…three-sevenths of the population owes me a favor."

"Three-sevenths?" Bolin repeated, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "And here I was preparing to be impressed."

Asami rolled her eyes. "Don't be glib, Bolin, it doesn't suit you." She patted the Breeze on the shoulder once, and began walking up the stairs to the police station.

Bolin took a look back at the Breeze, who was still panting and gasping on top of his rickshaw, and shrugged. "You okay?" he asked the homeless man awkwardly, not really sure how to continue on the conversation from that point on.

"…f-fine," the Breeze managed to cough out before giving him a nonchalant wave, as if telling him to get lost. "G-go…after…Ms. Sato…she's up there…waitin' for…ya."

Bolin whirled around, only to see Asami impatiently gesturing at him from the top of the steps.  _Huh. Figured she'd already be inside. Why'd she wait for me? She didn't have to…_  "Alright. Thanks for the ride…and, um, take a break for the rest of the day, or at least several hours, drink plenty of fluids, and if you have sore muscles or if anything hurts tomorrow I'll write you a prescription for Hydrocodone."

The Breeze simply waved him off again, and Bolin set off up the steps, following Asami into the police station. A brown-haired man wearing a red tunic, gray pants and sandals stood in the entranceway, a baby girl perched on his hip. "My name is Kuzon," he said, a Fire Nation lilt in his voice, along with an unmistakable tone of sadness. "This is my daughter, Zia."  _He's bringing his infant daughter to a meeting to discuss his husband's murderer? Spirits, and I thought Asami had issues._  "I—I know I shouldn't be…be bringing her here, but it's our nanny's day off, and I couldn't find anyone to watch her, and—"

"It's alright." Bolin whirled around in surprise to see Beifong standing solemnly behind him. Asami didn't appear to be perturbed. "Mr. Kuzon, thank you for coming down here. My condolences on your husband's passing—I promise that we're working as hard as we can to find out who did it."

Kuzon nodded, his eyes beginning to blur with tears. He shifted Zia up higher on his hip. "Thank you, Chief Beifong. I—I really appreciate that." He glanced over at Asami and Bolin, and the doctor felt as though he was being X-rayed under Kuzon's intense gaze. "Are these your detectives, Chief Beifong?"

"Spirits, no." Asami shook her head, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she did so. "My name is Asami Sato," she said evenly. "I'm a consulting detective for the Republic City Police Department. This is my colleague, Dr. Bolin Lieng, before whom you can speak as freely as before myself."

"Yes, ma'am," Kuzon said, shaking Asami's hand, then Bolin's. "And Mr. Lieng, correct?"

" _Doctor_  Lieng, actually," Bolin corrected.

"Mr. Kuzon," Beifong interrupted, "Ms. Sato and Dr. Lieng are going to ask you a few questions about your husband, alright? Please know that however…" She paused. "However  _invasive_  Ms. Sato will be, it's all in the matter of figuring out this case."

Asami scoffed and opened her mouth, presumably to insult Beifong, but Bolin elbowed her in the side. "Think about the case," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth before smiling at Kuzon, who looked about as confused as Beifong did.

The consulting detective merely shrugged. "Follow me," she said abruptly before walking off toward a hallway with a sign by it that read 审讯室 on it. Kuzon, carrying Zia, set off after her, and Bolin was about to do the same when Beifong grabbed his arm.

"Dr. Lieng," she said, "please try and keep her from doing anything drastic." Before he could ask her to clarify, she elaborated. "Last witness she talked to ended up swearing at her for about an hour because she deduced his entire family history of alcoholism and child abuse in less than five minutes. The one before that ran away screaming lunacy after half an hour."

Bolin winced. He didn't have to try very hard to picture that: it definitely seemed like something Asami would do. "I'll—I'll try my best, Chief."

Beifong grimaced. She looked like she was about to say something else, perhaps give him some advice or another warning, but refrained and walked away.

As Bolin strode to the room that Asami and Kuzon had gone into, he couldn't help but wonder just how this meeting with TongXing's husband was going to go.  _It can't be as bad as Beifong's making it out to be. That's just ridiculous. Sure, Asami's probably not going to be all 'I can be your shoulder to cry on' with this guy, but I doubt she's going to insult him or deduce him to the point of lunacy._

As he pushed open the door, he saw Asami pacing the length of the interrogation room with her hands behind her back. "So, Mr. Kuzon," she said casually, "has your family interacted with any pharmacists that remind you of serial killers lately?"

Bolin groaned.


	7. A Study in Ivory: Act Two, Part 3

_Fresh from his conference with Colonel Jiang, Bolin reentered his unit's quarters, ready to relax for the rest of the night before their confirmed next mission in Omashu in three days' time. As he leaned against the doorframe, Chouko approached him, abandoning the letter he'd been writing, presumably to Penga. Bolin gave him a salute, and Chouko waved it off. "At ease," the lieutenant muttered. "Hey, Doc, did you get a chance to talk with Sergeant Kimiri earlier?"_

" _Yes, sir," Bolin confirmed in the same whispered tone as Chouko. "Did you?"_

" _Yeah, just now. She seems pissed over the fact that Yuhan's been treating her like crap," Chouko said, then hastily added, "Understandably, of course."_

" _I told her that she needs to talk it out with him, sir," Bolin told Chouko. "Only problem is that I don't know how long it'll take for her to make a move."_

" _I don't think you'll have to wait very long, Doc," Chouko said, jerking his chin toward Kimiri, who was walking towards Yuhan's bunk. Her shoulders were thrown back, and she looked like she was psyching herself up for the scariest event of her life._

" _Shen, can I talk to you?" Kimiri asked hesitantly. "It's, um, it's kind of important."_

" _Well, I'm kind of busy now," Yuhan retorted, not willing to make eye contact with her._

_Bolin winced. This wasn't going to go well, he could tell already. Takumi and Raia were watching the scene like it was a tiebreaker round in a probending match. Chouko was watching it like one would watch a brutal car accident. Bolin surmised that he was watching Yuhan and Kimiri approximately the same way._

" _Yuhan," Kimiri said, sounding slightly irritated, "you're sitting on your bunk staring into space. Unless you're having an epiphany, then I think we should talk."_

" _Look, Sarge, I don't want to talk to you. How's that for a better explanation?" Yuhan replied sarcastically before standing up and making to leave. "Go and cook dinner or something, make yourself useful."_

" _Hey." Kimiri grabbed Yuhan's arm and whirled him around. "You do not get to talk to me like that, like—like I'm beneath you. Because guess what, Yuhan—I'm not just here to smile and look pretty._ I _outrank_ you _, which means you need to listen to me. Are we clear, Corporal?"_

_Yuhan gave Bolin a pleading look, but he refused to get involved. They had to handle this on their own. Chouko didn't say anything, and neither did Takumi or Raia, making it clear that the corporal was on his own for this one._

" _Fine," Yuhan got out through gritted teeth. "My sincerest apologies, Sergeant Kimiri. Go right ahead."_

 _Kimiri pointed at the corporal like he'd committed a felony. "You see?_ This _is what I'm talking about! You are making a mockery out of me, every day, every fucking minute. It annoys the shit out of me. I don't appreciate you treating me and Jiao-long and Iko like we're something that you found on a toilet seat in a public lavatory." She took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. "Alright. I know that you...I know you don't like me because I replaced your friend Riya. And I know you don't like Iko and Jiao-long because they replaced Sergeant Niko. But you have got to let it go, okay?"_

" _How dare you even say that to me?" Yuhan growled. "You've known me for what, a week now, and you think you can just start talking to me about something this controversial?"_

" _It's not controversial! You have got to talk about this, Yuhan, or else you'll never heal. I bet that your friends would hate the new you! Did you treat them like they were beneath you too? Did you make a mockery of Riya, saying that she needed to get back to the kitchens and cook you a nice dinner?"_

" _Fuck off!" Yuhan shoved Kimiri backwards on instinct, and Bolin stepped forward to interfere but Chouko placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let them duke it out, Doc," he whispered. "This is between them. You can't get involved."_

 _Kimiri reacted like a rat-viper, shoving Yuhan so hard that he fell backwards with a crash onto the floor. "What do you_ want _from me?" she shouted. "Do you want me to kill myself? D'you want me to resign? Would that make you happy?"_

_There was complete silence in the room as Kimiri breathed heavily, trying to calm herself down._

" _Look. I'm sorry that I replaced Riya, and I'm even sorrier that you lost two people that were so close to you. I can't even begin to imagine how awful that must feel." Yuhan didn't say anything, so Kimiri continued. "But just because you're grieving doesn't mean you should take out your frustrations on people who don't deserve it. Second Lieutenant Lieng and Lieutenant Chouko are grieving too. They haven't snapped at all."_

" _Yuhan." Chouko decided it was best to speak up now, and Bolin silently agreed with his commanding officer. "Riya was special to you. We all knew it. But the fact remains that she is dead, and shouting at Sergeant Kimiri isn't gonna change anything."_

_Yuhan's eyes were glistening, and he bit his lip. "I know Riya is dead, sir," he began. "It hurts like hell. Hiroshu gave his life killing the guy and I stood there and did nothing. I hate myself for it. Kimiri, Raia, Takumi. I know I've been a dick lately. But I've been grieving..." The corporal paused again, and steeled himself to say the next part. Bolin hoped that it was an apology—things were awkward enough with his unit already. "I've been grieving, and that ain't much of an excuse, but you'll have to take it for now. It'll take time, but I'll learn to accept Riya and Hiroshu's deaths like Doc and Lieutenant Chouko have. I'm sorry, you guys. I really am."_

_Yuhan held out his hand, and Kimiri exchanged a quick glance with Takumi and Raia. "Is it okay with you two?"_

" _Yeah, Sarge," Takumi immediately said, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Raia nodded, still a man of few words as always. Bolin could count on the fingers of one hand how many times that Raia had spoken since the lance corporal had joined the Third Battalion. But it was obvious that the corporal had agreed to make amends with Yuhan too._

" _Then I guess it's alright with me," she decided, and gave Yuhan's hand a quick pump. "Let's start over, shall we?"_

_Yuhan gave her a tentative half-smile. "Yeah," he said. "Let's start over."_

"Have I…what?" Kuzon looked confused, and he shifted up Zia into a more comfortable position on his lap. "I'm sorry, Ms. Sato, could you repeat that?"

"No, Asami,  _don't_  repeat that," Bolin ordered about half a second after the man had finished asking the question. Dear Spirits, he could see what Beifong had been talking about and it had barely been thirty seconds into the interrogation. "Just…I'm sorry, Mr. Kuzon, what she was trying to say was—"

"What I had attempted to ask you, Mr. Kuzon," Asami interrupted once more, "once my question is stripped down to the bare essentials, how long had your husband been suffering from the condition known as hemophilia?"

Kuzon's eyes widened. "Oh, I don't have the exact specifics on that one," he said, scrunching up his face as he thought. "Definitely long before we met, though."

"Thank you," Asami said, giving the man a wide smile that reminded Bolin of the one that she'd given the cab driver yesterday night. It didn't look real at all. "Did he take medication for it?"

"Er, yes," Kuzon said after a few moments. Before either Asami or Bolin could ask him to clarify, he continued. "He was on this drug that I can't pronounce at all—antifibri-something, that's the type…It was part of his replacement therapy: that's when the doctors injected concentrates of clotting factor VIII into his bloodstream. I don't really understand it much either, but…"

"Wait, was it tranexamic acid pills?" Bolin asked, out of the blue. "That's a type of antifibrinolytic medicine—"

Kuzon snapped his fingers. "Yes, that's it! That's exactly it. He's—he was on it for a long time, but I could never pronounce it, see."

"That brings me back to my previous question," Asami said, tilting her head. "Did TongXing interact with any pharmacists with serial killer attributes?"

"Erm…" Kuzon glanced over at Bolin, who shrugged. Obviously Asami had a point to make, and if that was the way that she had to phrase her questions, then so be it.  _Seriously, though, I figured she'd be at least a little more sympathetic with the man._  "No? The pharmacist we went to in Capital City is a very nice woman, she recommended us someone here. That's why TongXing went—he was supposed to have a meeting with him today to figure out the rest of his prescription."

Asami's eyebrows furrowed. "And did your pharmacist give you this one's name?"

"Yes, it was—damn it, what was it? Hamato, I think was his first name. I can't remember his last name…I remember TongXing was joking that it sounded like a name for a crazy person…not a halfwit…but…I can't think of it now. I'm sorry."

Bolin's mouth was slightly open. "Okay," he finally said. "Erm, thank you, Mr. Kuzon."

Asami didn't appear satisfied. "Did you or your husband know Jing Nilak, Akemi Hideki, Sakamoto Korei, or Jaida Kuji?"

"The names don't sound familiar," Kuzon replied after a moment of severe contemplation. "Why? Does it say in his records that he does—er, that he did?"

"No. But we have reason to believe that the man who murdered TongXing is a serial killer," Asami answered, sounding almost nonchalant. Kuzon blanched. "And we spotted him as a bartender at Asoka's, and believe that with his medical knowledge that he must be a pharmacist or a pre-med student, judging by his age."

"…but we'll find him," Bolin chimed in, worried that if Kuzon's face got any whiter the man would faint on the spot. "Trust me, sir, the police are doing everything in their power to track down TongXing's murderer."

"Do you swear he'll come to justice?" Kuzon asked, looking at them both in the eyes. It felt like Bolin was getting a rather severe X-ray, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to back out of his promise. Even Asami looked prepared to comb through back alleys and dumpsters to look for the serial killer. Or perhaps it was his imagination, because her look of determination faded after a few seconds and returned to a blasé, noncommittal expression.

"Yes, we promise," Asami said, giving him a wide (and possibly fake) smile before coming over to crouch next to Zia. "Don't worry, Zia, we'll find your father's killer."

Zia looked terrified and buried her face in Kuzon's shoulder. Asami looked perturbed as she glanced over to Bolin, silently asking what she'd done wrong. He barely managed to stifle a snicker as he tousled Zia's hair and pulled Asami to her feet. "Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Kuzon," he said politely, "we'll be keeping in touch."

* * *

Asami looked up from her work, pushing her safety goggles back up the bridge of her nose and pouted at Bolin, who was reclining on the couch flipping through the newspaper. "What exactly did I do wrong?" she asked for the thousandth time. "You still won't tell me, you know."

Bolin glanced over at her, shrugging one shoulder before going back to an article about the Fire Nation circus coming to visit in two months. "To be fair," he casually commented, "I still can't believe that you said what you said to Kuzon."

"What was wrong with what I said?"

"Spirits, Asami, the man just lost his husband and the father of his child to some two-bit serial pharmacist. The least you could've done was—well, be his shoulder to cry on, somewhat. At least be nicer than you were."

"What should I have done, offered him a hot beverage?" Asami scoffed at the very thought and tossed her hair over her shoulder, retying it back into a ponytail. A few stubborn wisps of black hair escaped from the rubber band and settled around her ears. She swiped them to the side impatiently. "I got to the heart of the matter, didn't I?"

"You were insensitive!" Bolin protested, putting the newspaper down. He'd gotten sick of reading the senseless stories in the  _Republic City Herald_ anyways—nothing was of any interest to him. "You could've at least said that you were sorry for what Kuzon was going through, you know."

"Why should I have? It's not like I'll remember this case in a few months from now anyways. Neither will you, I reckon, Dr. Lieng," Asami added, critically surveying the the large curved glass container boiling furiously over the bluish flame of the Bunsen burner. She dipped an eyedropper into a bottle, drawing out a few drops of hydrochloric acid and put it into a test tube. "He'll just be another sad face drifting in the back of your mind."

Bolin opened his mouth and closed it again, wondering whether or not he should say what was on his mind.  _Nah,_  he decided.  _She probably won't understand the concepts of social graces anyways. Too focused on science and the case and all that._  "I'll save the lecture on social graces for later," he finally said, earning a disgruntled snort from his roommate, who was furiously writing down something on a piece of paper. "Let's get back to the case at hand."

"Alright," Asami said, switching off the Bunsen burner. Bolin opened a window, fanning the burnt scent of chemicals outside, not able to take it any longer. "Chief Beifong got back to me about Jaida Kuji. And her husband was just tracked down and notified."

"Poor sap."

"What about the other spouses?" Asami said. "They probably feel bad."

 _They probably feel more than just_ bad, _if Kuzon's any indication._ Bolin rolled his eyes. "Alright, poor  _saps_ , then," he corrected himself. "Plural. Carry on. What did Beifong say to you about Jaida?"

"She had hemophilia too," Asami revealed. "Same level as the others had. TongXing and she were especially similar. Apparently he took the same medication that she did, the Coumadin thing. And apparently she trusted Saikhan enough to go and ask who the bartenders are at Asoka's." Asami rolled her eyes. "And before you inquire anything of me, let me just reveal that Saikhan—in my opinion of him, of course—is such an idiot that he would struggle pouring water out of a boot with the instructions on the heel."

"Either or," he said, holding back his laughter at Asami's blatant dislike for the police officer, "how did his task go?"

"Surprisingly well. He got the information and Beifong gave these to me." Asami tossed three photographs to Bolin, who sifted through them and scrutinized the three people carefully, waiting for something to jump out at him. The bar had been dimly lit last night, but he'd caught a glimpse of the bartender—enough to certify who Jaida's murder was—hadn't he? "Do you recognize anyone, Bolin?"

Bolin bit his lip, looking between two photographs. The third he'd cast aside instantly—the bartender had been male. The first photo was of a young man in his twenties, with carrot-colored hair and a tattoo on the side of his neck. The second photo was of an older guy wearing an ivory-white shirt, probably around Chouko's age, with black hair and green eyes and darker skin, symbolizing an Earth Kingdom descent. "It's this one," he said with finality, jabbing the second photo. "I'm positive it's this one."

Asami took the photo back and examined it, turning it over. "It says his name is Hamato Yoon," she said, reading the note stuck to the back of it. "Thirty-four years old."

" _Yes, it was—damn it, what was it? Hamato, I think was his first name. I can't remember his last name…I remember TongXing was joking that it sounded like a name for a crazy person…not a halfwit…but…I can't think of it now. I'm sorry."_

"Huh," Bolin mused. "I guess that's what Kuzon meant when he said that the guy's last name reminded him of a term for a crazy person." When Asami looked at him, her expression asking him to clarify his words, he explained, "'Yoon' kind of sounds like 'loon'."

"Yes, and judging by his actions Hamato Yoon  _is_ a crazy person," Asami answered offhandedly, her attention still fixed on the photograph.

"Well, then, I suppose all we need to do is ask for Beifong to put out a citywide all-points bulletin for this guy," Bolin said reasonably. "Then we'll catch him in no time."

Asami shook her head. "No, Bolin, you don't get it. He's a clever man—very clever indeed if he's managed to elude capture for so long. If they put out an all-points bulletin, Yoon will just scamper off to the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation or someplace where we have no jurisdiction and continue his killing spree elsewhere. We have to keep this quiet and find him on our own."

Bolin barked out an incredulous laugh. "Asami, do you have any clue how big this city even is? I grew up on the streets and I still don't know every nook and cranny of this place."

"I have two words for you, Doctor—homeless network." Asami gave him a cocky smirk. "They'll find him if I can't and will get the information back to me."

Bolin blanched, thinking of the Breeze chasing after the psychotic Hamato Yoon with his rickshaw, followed by a ragtag crew of Asami's homeless network. It wasn't a particularly reassuring image. But then again, neither was the image of Saikhan and Song parading after the serial pharmacist. "Um…okay. Erm. I'm sure that'll work. But how about we try and track him down instead of letting your homeless network do it?"

"You're a terrible liar, Bolin," Asami commented, rolling her eyes. "But that's beside the point. I'll be going after this guy no matter what. I'd like to find out his motive for doing this, anyways. He's my enemy just as much as he's Kuzon's."

For some reason, something clicked in Bolin's mind when she mentioned that Hamato was her enemy. "Speaking of enemies, are you ever going to tell me who the guy that kidnapped me was? The one who said he was your enemy? The one who offered me cash to spy on you?"

"No," she replied flippantly, going back to her notes on the experiment she'd just done. "I'll leave the figuring out to you on that account, Dr. Lieng."

Bolin shrugged, figuring that he wouldn't have gotten an answer on that question anyways. "Fair enough," he allowed. "Want lunch?" Then, because he was curious, he asked, "When's the last time you ate something?"

"I don't eat when I'm on a case." She said it like her not consuming anything for the duration of a case was the most normal thing on the planet. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want lunch and I don't think you should be left to your own devices when you're so hung up about tracking down Hamato Yoon. Ever heard of the expression 'fuel for thought'?"

"Mm." Asami considered it for half a second, racking her mind. "Possibly. Might've deleted it. What's the main idea of your question?"

"Not eating for so long could and will impair your cognitive function."

Asami pondered this, her expression blasé. He could tell that he'd gotten through to her, though.  _Score one for Lieng, baby._  "I know a good place that serves Water Tribe cuisine," she said. "Narook—he's the owner—and I have been friends for a while. We can get a nice table and a good deal. Plus, I've always been partial to his sea prune stew."

Bolin tapped his chin, pretending to think it over. He was hungry enough for anything at this point, and he'd always liked Water Tribe cuisine. "I'm game," he announced. "Let's go, then."

* * *

The inside of the restaurant was heavily decorated with Water Tribe relics, art, and tapestries, though it maintained some modern touches, like the electric lights and the radio blaring over the bar. The tables were scattered across the place—each were square-shaped and made from brown and golden wood—and seated up to ten people. It was a lively place that reeked of delicious scents and spices.

If it were possible to fall in love with a restaurant, he'd accomplished it.

The owner, Narook, came over to Bolin and Asami practically the very second that they walked into the restaurant. "Hello, Asami!" Narook said, looking and sounding pleased as he shook her hand fervently. He led them to a table in the back of the restaurant with a view of the street outside, bustling with people and animals alike. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free of charge," he told Bolin, who froze with his hand halfway toward his wallet. "I insist. For you and your date."

"I'm not her date," Bolin said as Asami took the menus from a beaming Narook, skimming through them before handing them back.

"This woman got me off a murder charge  _and_  cleared my name. I'd stick with her if I were you." With a grin at Asami, he said, "Our sea prune stew for you, Ms. Sato, as usual. For you, sir?"

"Dr. Lieng will have the seaweed noodles," Asami said before Bolin could even open his mouth. "We'll both have some lychee juice to drink."

"Very well. I'll get that right up. Not to mention a candle for the table." Narook winked at Bolin, who remained nonplussed. "It's more romantic."

"Still not her date," Bolin called after Narook as he bustled off to the kitchen. "Asami, you know I'm not—you know we're not on a date. Are we?"

"I'm well aware of that, Doctor," Asami replied. Her lips twitched, like she was fighting the urge to laugh. For once, he couldn't blame her. "You may as well let him go along with his fantasy. He's been trying to pair me off with someone since we were first introduced. Last time around he tried to set me up with someone named Lisu Jin. Nice woman. But not nearly captivating enough for me to remain interested."

Bolin nearly did a double-take. "So, are…are you…" He stopped mid-sentence, hoping that she would finish it for him.

"Am I what?" Asami clearly knew exactly what Bolin was wondering, but clearly wanted to make him suffer and say it.

Lowering his voice, he finished, "Gay?"

She gave him an inscrutable look, her eyes roaming over his body long enough to make him extremely uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair, trying not to sweat, and the corners of Asami's mouth quirked upwards into a genuine smile. "Perhaps you'll never know," was her response as Narook brought back their food, steaming hot.

Bolin dug into his noodles, slurping them up with his chopsticks as Asami delicately ate her sea prune stew. All the while he kept on wondering whether Narook's Seaweed Noodlery would be able to cater at his wedding—it was probably the best food he'd ever had. Even Mako's famous soup didn't come close: although he'd never admit that to his older brother.

They didn't speak, and while the silence would've been uncomfortable had it been anyone else that Bolin was sitting with, but their silence was almost comfortable, in a weird way. The only thing they said was the occasional "Pass me a napkin" and "Are you ready to leave?".

It was only when they began walking back to Baker Street when Asami muttered something under her breath. Bolin could understand why—the police cars surrounding the street probably wasn't a good sign. "What do you think they're here for?"

Asami mumbled a curse under her breath again. "Damned if I know," she said.

They made their way upstairs, where Mrs. Shirui was pacing around the landing because of all of the commotion going on in their apartment. "Asami, dear, Ms. Beifong and half the precinct came looking for you and Dr. Lieng—"

"Yes, Mrs. Shirui, I know, we'll take care of it," Asami responded, putting a hand on Mrs. Shirui's shoulder. "It'll be quick. Nothing to worry about."

"If you insist, Asami, but they sounded very serious—"

"Not a problem." Asami's smile was forced, and her shoulders tensed as she left Mrs. Shirui on the stairway. Bolin opened the door and the two of them walked inside their apartment, where Beifong lounged in the armchair facing them. Other police officers were milling around, each of them staying well away from the skull on the mantelpiece.

"What are you doing here?" Asami's voice was sharp. "You can't just break into my apartment."

"We've had a warrant for wherever you live since someone called the cops on you three years ago," was the chief's blasé response as she stood up. "Besides, I hoped you'd figured out who the killer is by now."

"Well, yes," Asami spluttered, "but why are the rest of them here? You, I can tolerate. There's only so much stupidity in one room that I can handle without suffering a migraine." As Saikhan entered the room from the kitchen, the consulting detective threw her arms in the air in pure exasperation. "Dear Spirits, it's like an epidemic!"

"I don't have time for this." Beifong looked tired. "Look, Asami, did you figure it out or didn't you?"

"His name is Hamato Yoon," Bolin said after a few seconds of prolonged silence. "Pharmacist and bartender. Serial killer. Mid-thirties."

As Beifong and Saikhan questioned him on what he knew (which wasn't very much, he was sad to say), he noticed Asami wasn't taking in a word of it. She looked rather dumbstruck, almost lost in thought.

A couple of minutes later, she proclaimed, "I've got to go."

"Excuse me?" Beifong asked incredulously. Saikhan's jaw had dropped to his knees. "Where in the world do you think that you're going?"

Even Bolin was taken aback by Asami wanting to leave. "Are you feeling alright, Asami?" he inquired, fully prepared to administer medical assistance in case she felt poorly.

"I—I'm fine. I need to pop outside for a moment or two for some fresh air. Won't be long, I promise."

The chief of police looked like she'd been hit in the face with something very heavy. "Um," she said. "Alright. Go on. Do, um, do you want Dr. Lieng to accompany you?"

"No, I'm fine." She shook her head and hurried out of the room. Bolin followed her to the living room door and frowned at her quick pace down the stairs, calling after her, "You sure you're okay?"

Asami turned back once she got to the front door. Her determined expression reminded Bolin of Kimiri or Riya right before they'd gone on dangerous missions—willing to do whatever it took to get the job done.  _Why does she look like that? What's she going to do?_ Her expression softened slightly. "I'm fine," she assured him, her hand on the doorknob. "Stay here, Dr. Lieng. I'll only be a few moments."

She disappeared out the door before he could even begin to think of a reply, and an uneasy feeling blossomed in his gut after a few minutes had passed. "She'll be fine," he told himself, heading back upstairs. "She's not going to do anything stupid."

She wouldn't, would she?


	8. A Study in Ivory: Act Two, Part 4

For the second time in two days, Asami stepped into Asoka's Bar and Grill, wrinkling her nose at the volume of voices and the odor of stale whiskey. She'd never understand the fascination that people had with bars. They could always buy alcohol for the same price at a store and drink it without human companionship.

 _Then again,_  she thought, _that's probably why they're all here. They strive for human companionship and think they won't get it anywhere else. Fascinating how their tiny little brains work. It must be so boring._

She shook her head slightly, clearing her mind of the unimportant deduction. It wasn't necessary to her now, so she saved it in the back of her thoughts for later. If it didn't prove interesting in the next few days, then she would delete it.

Asami approached the bar counter, where she sat down at a stool across from a trio of giggling blondes, all fawning over a man that was preaching about his many escapades.  _Lies,_ she immediately knew. _Not strong enough to climb a mountain or paddle down the river. Hasn't been to the Fire Nation. Lives with his mother. Age forty. Not rich. Works as a pet groomer. Shouldn't get his hopes up—two of the girls are gay._

"Excuse me," she said, making her voice higher and more excited.  _I've never been happier for those acting lessons that I was forced to take as a child._  "Hi! Can I have a Deerbees Knees?"

The bartender (the female one) rolled her eyes before pasting a fake smile on her face. Asami wondered how many people she'd had to make Deerbees Knees' for so far this evening. "Sure thing, honey," said the girl, whose name Asami thought was something like Aimili. Or Aima. Either or, it was of no importance to her. "Anything else?"

Asami shook her head and began messing around with one of the coasters, trying to appear absentminded. But for once she actually had something in common with the flirting floozies a table over—she too was looking for the perfect man.

Only hers happened to be a serial pharmacist with a sociopathic streak a mile wide.

Luckily, she didn't have to wait very long for Hamato Yoon to show up. The drink took approximately one minute and twenty seconds to make, and while she took tentative sips of it (and  _despised_  the taste, it was far too sweet for it to be enjoyable), an older man with dark hair, light green eyes and an ivory-colored shirt waltzed out of the kitchen carrying a plate full of cheap appetizers and Bloody Mali's. He deposited them on the correct table with a bow and a wink, not bearing any trace of the same cold-blooded killer that had disposed of TongXing Li and Jaida Kuji so thoroughly.

Details flew through her mind unbidden as she searched for the perfect ones.  _Hamato Yoon serial pharmacist affinity for ivory smells of bleach buys cheap cologne one sister appendix surgery fake hair scar on his chin from childhood accident younger than he looks sociopathic tendencies. Sole murderer of Jaida Kuji, TongXing Li, Akemi Hideki, Sakamoto Korei, and Jing Nilak._

Asami smirked, setting down her drink with an inaudible thud.  _Jackpot._

"Who's that?" she asked maybe-Aima, looking politely smitten. "He's  _really_  cute."

"Oh, that's Hamato," said possibly-Aimili with a grin. "He's cute, yeah, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. He's way too unavailable, even for someone as pretty as you."

Asami smiled. "Oh, I don't know about that. Call him over and let me talk with him."

The female bartender snorted derisively. "Okay, doll, it's your funeral." She cupped her hands over her mouth. "Hamato!" maybe-Aima called, a few specks of spit flying out of her mouth and landing in Asami's drink. "Hey, Hamato, come here!"

Hamato looked up, smearing grease from his hands on his shirt. "What is it, Akari?"

Akari—and now Asami was wondering how she'd ever confused the name 'Aima' with 'Akari'—grinned like the owl-cat that ate the mouse-canary as Hamato came closer. Asami forced herself to relax. "I've got a girl I want you to meet. This is—"

"We've met," Hamato interrupted, staring at Asami the way that one would stare at a choice cut. She didn't dare move a muscle—instead she gave Hamato a sunny smile like she hadn't a care in the world. "She's with me."

"Is she now?" Akari's grin didn't falter as she hopped up and down clapping her hands. "Ooh, a romance! Go on, then! Are you late for a date with her or something, Hamato? Go, take the night off! I'll tell the manager—LianJing and I will cover for you." She skipped off, presumably to tell LianJing.

Hamato picked up Asami's near-empty glass, inspecting it. She wondered if he noticed Akari's spit flecks decorating it. "A Deerbees Knees, eh? I didn't think you'd go for something like that."

"I guess you don't know me as well as you think," Asami responded, thankfully out of Akari's earshot. She dropped her act, thankful that they were somewhat alone. "I, however, happen to know you better than you think." She leaned in close to him, whispering, "I've been told that actions speak louder than words."

Hamato's expression hardened. "Let's take a walk, Ms. Sato." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the door, all the while maintaining an air of a happy-go-lucky bartender on a date with a beautiful woman.

Asami smiled. Her plan was finally falling into place. "Yes, let's."

* * *

"She just left Asoka's with him," Bolin reported incredulously, unable to believe his eyes from his vantage point at the kitchen window.  _It's the middle of a case and she chooses to just up and leave for a drink at Asoka's? That's crazy, even for Asami._ "She's leaving Asoka's with him now."

"She left again?" Mrs. Shirui clucked her tongue. "Poor dear, she always does this."

Beifong swore miserably under her breath. "I'm going to kill her. We're in the middle of a damn murder case and she just leaves like nothing matters?  _Spirits._  Dr. Lieng, tell her to come by the station tomorrow morning with information or else."

Saikhan looked like he'd been hit in the face with something heavy. "Does her input even matter? Does  _any_  of it? She's a fucking lunatic and she'll  _always_  let you down. You're wasting your time using her as a confidential informant, Chief.  _All_  of our time. I could be at home now, for Spirits' sake."

"Doing what?" Bolin demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Roleplaying as an ostrich-horse while you wrestle a hooker off the streets to be your jockey?"

"Dr. Lieng!" Bolin couldn't tell who yelled at him first. Even Beifong looked taken aback by this unnecessary influx of information. Saikhan looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Mrs. Shirui appeared scandalized and thoroughly amused. The other police officers busied themselves with disguising their snorts with hacking coughs.

"Do you even  _care,"_  Bolin started, undeterred by the interruption, "that five people are dead? And all you're thinking of is going home? What does it matter to you how you solve the case as long as you solve it? It's not your decision, Captain Saikhan, and your input sure as hell doesn't matter to Asami or me. So why don't you just shut up?"

It should've been plain to all of them that this was no longer the mild-mannered doctor that they were dealing with, this was 2nd Lieutenant Lieng of the United Forces' Third Battalion.  _Spirits, I don't think I've spoken out like that since Colonel Jiang yelled at Kimiri for speaking her mind. And even then..._

While Bolin sorted out his thoughts, Beifong and Saikhan were having some sort of staring contest with one another, each trying to convey something extremely important with each other without saying anything. After a few moments, Beifong sighed. "Alright, everyone, go home. We're done here. I'll see you tomorrow at eight o'clock. Saikhan, you too. And if I ever catch word of you doing what Dr. Lieng accused you of, you're dead. Got it?"

Saikhan sighed. "Yes, Chief," he muttered before grabbing his coat and leaving.

Beifong turned to look at Bolin, watching him like a predator watched its prey. "Do you know why she left?" she suddenly inquired. "Why did she leave?"

Bolin shrugged. "Beats me. Besides, you know her better than I do. What do you think, Chief?"

"I've known Asami Sato for six years, and I haven't got a single clue. You've known her for a few days and are already defending her honor to Saikhan. I'd say you're more qualified to give me an answer."

Bolin shrugged again, unsure of what to say. "I have no idea, Chief, really. Maybe she'll be back later."

Beifong sighed, as if Bolin was a student in class who'd disappointed her with the wrong answer. "That's what I thought." She grabbed her coat and headed for the door, pausing with one hand on the doorknob to look back at him. "Captain Saikhan asked me why we put up with her, Doctor. I'll tell you why—she is one of the best detectives I've ever worked with. She's a great person, and maybe someday, if the Spirits think it so, she might even be a good one."

With that, and another piercing gaze directed at him, Beifong left the apartment. She was followed by Mrs. Shirui, who insisted on going to the store and getting some tea for Asami when she returned.

"This is stupid," Bolin said, glaring at the skull on the mantelpiece as if it had personally offended him. "This is just—Spirits, I'm going after her."

He picked up Asami's gun (and he still did not want to know where the hell she'd gotten it from) from in between the couch cushions and tucked it in his belt as a makeshift holster. Bolin released a long sigh of relief, pleased to be back in his element, and headed out the door.

* * *

Asami was unimpressed.

Needless to say that she'd been unimpressed many times in her life (more times than she'd been impressed, actually), but being unimpressed when it came to the actions of a serial killer—that really hurt. "I expected more of you," she remarked, looking around the room. "A motel room with all the lights off except one. Your pacing around the room is making me a bit seasick, by the way, so stop. I'm not tied up. And—and now you're sitting across from me at a wooden table with a window behind you and you're holding up a nice little knife. How cute." She yawned. "Did you pick this up in a magazine?  _Serial Killers Weekly?"_

"Oh, shut up," Hamato snapped, dropping the knife on the table. "I'm about to  _kill_  you, for Spirits' sake. Aren't you frightened?"

Asami snorted. "If you think that you're the first person in the world to want me dead, then you are sadly mistaken."

Hamato's stern expression faded and he actually laughed. "I'm starting to understand why he fancies you now," he muttered under his breath.

That got her attention. "Excuse me?"

"Weren't expecting that, were you?" He sounded extremely triumphant, and his tone pissed her off.

"Who were you talking about? Who—who fancies me?" Asami grimaced in disgust, praying it wasn't anyone she knew.

Hamato laughed again, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes like she was the world's best stand-up comedienne. "He doesn't fancy you in that sense, my dear. He admires your...how do I say it? Your ethic. Your drive. Your zeal."

"I get it," Asami interrupted, thoroughly irritated with him dancing around her question. "But who is this person?"

"He's my sponsor." Hamato reclined in his chair, looking casual. "Every life I take, the more money I make." He snorted, rubbing his hands together. "That case with the last girl was like a good joke. A cheater, a doctor and a consulting detective walk into a bar. Brilliant.  _And_  I got paid double."

Asami scoffed in disgust. "Who'd want to sponsor a serial pharmacist?"

"Who'd be a fan of Asami Sato?" he immediately answered. His poker face was good. Maybe better than her own. "And besides, that doesn't matter. Because now I'm going to kill you."

"How  _dull."_  Asami mock-pouted, her bottom lip quivering. "And anyway, you won't kill me now. Now, we are going to talk."

"Well, I'm not in any hurry." Hamato made a show of pretending to check his wristwatch. He yawned. "What are we going to talk about?"

"Why did you wrap your victims in an ivory sash?"

"Easy," he said. "Ivory is a white color. White symbolizes resurrection. And that, Ms. Sato, symbolizes my grief for those cheating bastards. I rubbed the sashes with bleach to cleanse them and tied them around the victims' waists so in their next lives, maybe they won't be such cheating bastards."

Asami nodded, like the manic explanation had made perfect sense. It made less sense to her than Beifong's reasoning that Saikhan was a good cop. "I assume you knew your victims personally. Although not quite well enough for them to question why their pharmacist was working in a bar."

He nodded, grimacing as though he smelled something foul. "Jing Nilak was such a bitch. Always saying, 'Mr. Yoon, I don't think you're right' in that squeaky voice of hers. Always acting like she knew how to do my job. Never regretted killing her for a heartbeat. And Sakamoto Korei—Spirits. He was cheating and beating both of his girlfriends on the side. It was my pleasure killing him."

"Tell me about TongXing Li," she suddenly said, knowing that talking about the 'odd victim out' would provide her with the information to complete the puzzle.

Hamato's face darkened, like gray storm clouds covering the sun. "He was an accident."

Asami raised her eyebrows coolly. "How do you  _accidentally_  drug a man with severe hemophilia and then leave him to die in a tenement house choking on his own blood? I assume that's why you came by that night disguised as a drunk, to see if he'd really died."

Hamato looked like he was trying not to fidget under her intense scrutiny. For the time being, she'd gained the upper hand.

And then her eyes widened as she made the connection. She finally understood the man's mistake. "I see," she said softly. "You wanted TongXing to cheat on his husband with  _you._  You were in love with him."

"Shut your mouth," Hamato snapped.

"I'm done shutting my mouth," she retorted. "Your hair is fake—toupees are no longer in style, Mr. Yoon, I'm sad to say. You had an appendectomy recently...I'd say a year ago? Your chin scar reflects a childhood injury—swings had something to do with it. And your cologne is awful: where did you buy it, a flea market?"

"Shut up!" In a flash, Hamato leaned forward and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, nearly choking her. "Enough with your fucking observations, Sato. Tonight, you're going to die, and my sponsor will surely thank me in kind."  _His breath stinks, what's he been eating?_  "Any last words before it's over?" he asked menacingly, the blade of his knife coming tantalizingly close to her throat. He loomed over her, ready to kill.

Out of the blue, Asami grinned at him. "Yes," she said calmly. "Watch your back."

And then out of nowhere, a bullet punched through the window and sent glass flying everywhere, went straight through Hamato's shoulder, barely missing Asami's head before the bullet impaled itself in the wooden door with a resounding crack.

Hamato slumped forward, his body falling to the ground with a thud. Asami stood up, craning her neck as she looked around for the shooter that she'd briefly caught a glimpse of under the streetlight. But now there was no one there, and nothing to be heard to give her a clue. She was alone.

She whirled around and knelt next to Hamato's convulsing body, knowing that she didn't have much time left before he slipped into shock and died. "I need a name," she barked, getting his attention. "Tell me who your sponsor is. Now. I want the name of my fan."

"Piss off," he said weakly.

Angrily, Asami lifted her foot and ground it into his shoulder. Hamato gave a barely audible moan of pain. "Tell me  _now!"_

Hamato shook his head wearily but resolutely. "...no."

Asami put all of her weight into the foot pinning him to the ground. He whined in pain, sounding absolutely pathetic. Her resolve strengthened, as did her anger.

_"The NAME!"_

_"Amon!"_  Hamato's voice was strangled in his dying agony. And then, after repeating it again, his eyes closed as his head rolled to the side.

Asami stepped back, wiping her shoe on the floor to get rid of the serial killer's blood. "Amon," she muttered reflectively.

As if on cue, the police sirens blossomed in the distance.

* * *

After all of the police cars had pulled up outside the motel near Asoka's Bar and Grill, everyone had gotten down to business. Beifong had even managed to relinquish Asami to a bunch of paramedics. The coroners had taken Hamato Yoon's body away in their van without asking any questions.

Bolin leaned against the wall of the motel, fiddling with the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. He felt the urge to smoke something, but resisted, not knowing if it was proper or not with all the police around.

Asami was arguing with Beifong over something now, gesturing around her like she was controlling air traffic. Bolin could barely make out what she was saying, but it sounded important. Probably a deduction about Yoon's mental state. Or maybe Saikhan's.

And then she suddenly stopped speaking, her piercing green eyes finding his in the crowd of medical examiners and police officers. He waved at her, as if to say hello.

"Where are you going?" Beifong called in surprise as Asami walked toward him like a woman on a mission, her head held up high. "Asami?"

"I need to talk with him about the rent." Before Beifong could say anything, Asami held up a hand. "Hey, I just caught you a serial killer! The least you can do would be to let me talk to Dr. Lieng. It won't take long."

Beifong rolled her eyes and waved her off. "Go on. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Without hesitating, Asami ducked under the police tape separating them, nearly tripping into him but righting herself at the last moment. "Hello," she said.

"Captain Saikhan just finished explaining everything," Bolin said in a way of greeting. He couldn't help but feel awkward under her intense scrutiny. It was like being in the principal's office. "Yoon's motivation and all that. Terrible stuff and...uh, stuff."

She leaned forward, her breath tickling his ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up as she whispered, "Nice shot."

"Must've been, from what I heard about it." Bolin was willing to bet that his poker face was awful. Even Riya, with her abysmal bluffing skills, could've done better than him. "Everyone said so."

"And you'd know firsthand, wouldn't you?" Asami was smirking. She was actually smirking. Unbelievable.

 _To hell with it._  "Yeah," he said steadily. It wasn't like she didn't already know, and he wasn't great at keeping secrets. "The shooter was pretty good looking too, from what I heard."

Asami let out a surprised bark of laughter, stifling a giggle behind her hand. Bolin couldn't help but laugh along with her, ignoring the surprised looks from the police officers.

Once they managed to get a hold of themselves, Asami rolled her eyes at him. "How'd you even get here so fast? No taxi would've taken you."

"I whistled for the Breeze," he explained simply. "He saw you go off with Yoon at Asoka's. I tracked him down and he took me here so fast I'm pretty sure he's still panting in an alley somewhere draped over his rickshaw."

She chuckled, probably picturing it. "That free meal at the Risha Deli must've given him incentive to be at our beck and call," Asami mused.

Bolin snorted. "And the fifteen yuans I paid him probably didn't help either. I hope you like him, he'll be sticking around for a while." He cleared his throat, feeling awkward again.

Asami's grin faltered for a split second. "Are you okay, Bolin?"

"Yeah," Bolin said, "I'm fine." And the strange part was that he actually meant it that time. He felt fine for the first time since his discharge, and it felt great.

Even if he had just killed a man.

Asami shrugged, smiling at him. He had a feeling she knew what he was going through. "Where did you hide the gun, by the way?"

"Bottom of a river. I wore gloves, so it can't be traced back to me. Plus it would have been a pain to wash the powder burns out of my skin—I haven't done that in a while."

"Very good, Doctor." She sounded impressed with him for a split second before her act became blasé again. Then, with a glance at him, she began walking away from the police cars, ducked under the police tape and waited for him with a hand on her hip.

He hurried to keep up. "Did you know that I was coming? Or were you actually going to risk your life by tracking down Yoon and having him kill you?"

Asami scoffed. "I knew you'd turn up, Bolin. Don't underestimate me."

"I don't think you knew. I think you were actually risking your life just to prove that you're the most clever person in town. You—you were just fulfilling your adrenaline addiction."

"And why would I do that?"

Bolin rolled his eyes affectionately, punching her playfully on the shoulder. "Because you're an idiot."

Asami looked like she was trying and failing to hold back a genuine smile, and Bolin smiled too. It was nice to see her like this once in a blue moon. "I'm tired. Want to go home?" she asked him.

"Yeah," Bolin said immediately. He hadn't realized how tired he was until she pointed it out. The entire day had taken a heavy toll on him.

As they turned to walk out of the crime scene, a long black car pulled up a few yards in front of them. Once it stopped, an older man and a young woman stepped out of it one by one, both of them gazing around the scene. The woman pulled out a notepad and hastily scribbled a few notes onto it, showing them to the man. He nodded in approval, and she put the notepad back in the car, closing the door behind her.

Bolin's heart nearly stopped as he realized who they were. "Asami," he hissed, elbowing her, "that's him, that's the one I was telling you about. That's the one who kidnapped me and tried to get me to spy on you."

Asami's gleeful expression hardened, and she looked slightly irritated. "Yes, I know  _exactly_  who that is." She walked closer to the man and stopped a few inches in front of him, looking angry. Ming-Li shied away from them.

Bolin glanced around, making sure that the police were at a close distance so that they could help if necessary. He wasn't exactly in the mood for breaking up a fight.

"Congratulations on solving another case," said the man in a tone of voice people reserved for discussing the weather. "It really was a job well done."

"Enough with the pleasantries," she snapped. "What're you doing here? Don't you dare say that you were in the neighborhood, I know for a fact that you weren't."

"I'm concerned about you. I heard you were kidnapped and felt it was my responsibility to come and see if you were alright."

"Yes, and apparently your concern about me also extended to kidnapping Dr. Lieng." Asami looked over at him, and Bolin took a step closer, ready to protect her if things got hairy. "I figured you had enough people spying on me as it was. How many of your cronies have an eye on Baker Street now?"

"Not as many as I'd like." The man sighed, as if the fate of the whole world rested on his shoulders. "You're always so aggressive, Asami. You know that this feud between us is childish. Your mother would've been so upset by us arguing."

"Mom would've been upset at  _me?"_  Asami repeated in disbelief. "Really?"

"...wait." Bolin frowned, unsure if he was hearing things. "Your mother? Asami, what's he talking about?"

Asami sighed, looking as though she was seriously trying to control her temper. "Dr. Lieng, this is my father, Hiroshi Sato. Dad, I think you've already become well acquainted with Bolin."

 _Well, this is news._  Bolin stared in amazement at Hiroshi and Ming-Li, who both looked bored with the world around them. "You—you're her father?"

"Of course he's my father." Asami looked amazed that he hadn't figured that out. "And from the looks of him he's been putting on weight."

"Losing it, actually." Hiroshu rolled his eyes. "Who did you think I was, Doctor?"

"I don't know, a criminal mastermind?" Bolin felt embarrassed for even saying it out loud.

"A criminal mastermind. For Spirits' sake—I'm the CEO of Future Industries," Hiroshi said in exasperation. "Half the people in the city own my cars."

"The CEO thing is a side hobby that he does when he's not occupying a minor position in the government," Asami explained disparagingly. "Or when he's interfering in every aspect of my life." She shot Hiroshi a glare. He didn't appear to be fazed. "Have a good night, Dad. I'll see you later."

And with that, she walked away. Bolin followed her, missing the cautious glance exchanged between Ming-Li and Hiroshi.

Despite her father showing up to a crime scene, Asami still looked happy. A smile flickered across her lips, and after a few moments, she was full-out grinning.

"What're you all happy about?" Bolin asked curiously. He was still trying to process that Asami's arch-enemy was her father, he didn't think he could handle a mind-blowing deduction at that moment.

"Amon," she replied.

"What's an Amon?"

"Not a clue," was her cheerful response. "But he can wait until morning."

* * *

"Sir, I saw it myself. The man was a crack shot—he killed Hamato Yoon from a hundred feet away in total darkness. And the Sato girl didn't even get hurt from the shot or from Yoon. She told everything to the police and her sidekick."

"Are you sure of this?"

"I'm positive, sir."

"Well, then. It appears that we have a new problem on our hands. I want you to update their surveillance statuses to Grade Four Active. You know what that entails."

"Yes, I know. But sir, whose statuses do you mean?"

"Asami Sato and Bolin Lieng."


	9. Chance Encounters (an interlude)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, I feel obligated to remind you that this interlude is not the beginning of a new case. These interludes will just be little snippets in between cases, and hopefully you guys will like them. I do take requests, so if there's something specific that you'd like to see, just leave your request in a review and I'll be sure to write it. :)

"Who gave you  _that_?" Bolin's voice was full of stunned disbelief as he stared at the shiny black moped resting on the curb. Asami leaned against it, rubbing the handlebars proudly. His mouth was slightly agape—he'd wanted a moped since they'd been invented sometime in the middle of his second tour in the Northern Water Tribe. Riya's sister Jora had sent the unit a picture of hers, and Bolin had practically salivated over it. Chouko had thought Bolin had taken leave of his sense, and Riya had had to pry the photograph away from him.

Asami smirked. "My father did. He gave it to me as a sort of belated birthday gift. He has this complex where he alternates between yelling at me about my life choices and then feeling bad and throwing huge, elaborate gifts at me to win me back. He gets Ming-Li to pick them out for me." Bolin snorted rather ungracefully. "I like to think of it as a tactical advantage."

"Damn, Asami," was Bolin's slightly choked reply.

"I usually give all of my money to my homeless network, but I knew that having a method of transportation if the Breeze was ever busy would come in handy." She swung a leg over the side, perching herself up on the seat. "Anyways, I'm going to go and take it for a test drive."

"If you're not back by nightfall, then can I start worrying?" he asked cheekily, clasping his hands under his chest and trying to pull off the look of a worried parent.

Asami rolled her eyes, and he could detect a hint of sarcasm in her demeanor before she even continued speaking. "If I'm not back by nightfall, Dr. Lieng, then you can assume that some underling in the Republic City Police Department has arrested me and I'll need you to bail me out."

Bolin gave her a crisp, mock-salute as she got rid of the kickstand and pulled the moped away from the curb. "Aye, aye, madam," he announced resolutely, waving at her as she drove away. "Have fun on your joyride!"

 _Please don't let her get arrested,_ he prayed. He didn't know if he had the strength to bail her out.

* * *

It felt amazing, really, just driving through the streets and feeling her hair whip out from behind her on a nice sunny afternoon. Driving with the Breeze was great, and her friendship with him often proved to be invaluable. But sometimes it was nice to have a relaxing drive on her own and not in the back of a grimy rickshaw chasing down a criminal.

It was only when she turned into the Dragon Flats Borough that she realized just how many people there were. How the Breeze managed to effortlessly dodge them all the time was beyond her comprehension, and she had to make a sharp right turn to avoid crashing into the back of a Cabbage Car.  _Note to self: up the Breeze's pay next time. Maybe he can instruct me on the correct way to perform evasive maneuvers._

And then the traffic cleared up and she zoomed down the road, swerving and dodging and she felt absolutely free and amazing, like a leaf soaring on the wind. She was so caught up in her happiness that she didn't see a stranger running toward her, his red scarf flying in the wind as he tried to catch the afternoon trolley.

Her impaired senses failed to realize that by the angle that she was going in and the angle that the stranger was running in, they were going to crash like two trains heading toward each other on the same stretch of track. She slammed her foot down on the brake, screeching to a halt but still crashing into the man and sending him flying backwards into the street, screaming like a banshee.

"Watch where you're going!" she snapped, wheeling her moped to a complete halt as he picked himself up off the street. Then her guilt and compassion took over as she quickly asked, "Spirits, are you alright? I...I didn't see you!" Then, because she just  _had_ to make a deduction on the situation, she rambled, "Based on the way you were running I was afraid that as a result of me hitting you and the angle you fell at that you were going to fracture your spine."

"What are you talking about?" He rubbed the back of his head, looking up at her angrily as she took off her helmet to see him better. "Are you blind or something? How could you  _not_  see me? I mean I was ju—juu..." His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed bright red as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to see him better. She tucked her helmet under her arm and stared at him, waiting for him to continue berating her so she could berate him in return. "I...uh, I was—I...wow." He coughed. "I was..." He cleared his throat and blushed.  _What the hell's wrong with him?_  "I'm Mako Lieng."

Unable to help herself, she let the deductions flow through her mind.  _Firebender thirty years old has a sibling works at a power plant overworked stressed appendix scar romantic lover left him broody bad hair day_ —she shut them down, no longer as interested as she'd been to begin with. And then she could've kicked herself. She'd run into Mako Lieng. As in the brother of Bolin. Bolin's older brother. "Wait," she said in disbelief. "You're Bolin's brother?"

His brows furrowed, and suspicion etched itself into every nook and cranny of his face. "What's it to you?"

 _That's where the resemblance is uncanny: whenever someone appears to threaten Mako or Bolin they raise their hackles and prepare for a fight._ She laughed out loud, amazed at the odds. Really, what were the chances of her crashing into (and nearly injuring, now that she thought about it) her friend and roommate's older brother? She'd have to calculate it when she got home, but the odds didn't seem impressive. "I'm Asami Sato," she said, sticking out her hand, which he almost tripped over himself shaking. She decided to have some fun with him. "Bolin and I just started living together."

Mako's jaw nearly dropped to his knees. "Wait,  _what_?" he spluttered, his voice stretching and cracking on the last word like a boy going through puberty. "What're you... _what_?"

Asami snorted through her nose, barely managing to swallow her laughter. "I'm kidding!" she said. "Spirits. Well, we are living together. That's not a lie. We're roommates, though. Met through a friend of his."

"Okay." Mako took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head from side to side like a platypus-bear trying to shake off bumbleflies in the summertime. "Spirits, you freaked me out. I didn't think that...well. Never mind. You do know that he's really depressed, right? I doubt he'd be much fun to room with."

"Yes, I'm aware, and since he just returned from seven years of military service and suffers from profound survivor's guilt and chronic nightmares, I'm going to cut him some slack." Asami's voice was tight. "I also know that you're really overworked and stressed, you had appendix surgery and your lover left you recently. You're a firebender based on your skin and chakra, and I know you're thirty years old. You were trying to catch the trolley for the power plant if I'm not mistaken—sorry about that by the way—and I can't help but wonder if maybe you'd be better off doing something else."

Asami stepped away from him and hopped back on her moped. "I'd invite you for dinner," she said apologetically, "to make up for hitting you, but I'm afraid I really must get going. A little bird told me that there's a shady character wandering around the harbor and I'm going to investigate. Maybe I'll see you around. I'll tell your brother that you say hi."

She saw him wave to her as she left, this time mindful of traffic, and couldn't help but think how much his wave had looked like a drunken hand spasm.

 _He's good-looking_ , she realized once she'd gotten to the harbor,  _in a broody sort of way_. Then again, what did it matter? She had a murderer to catch.

* * *

"So let me get this straight." Bolin had been pacing around the living room before he sat across from Asami in his adjacent armchair, his cup of hot tea long forgotten. "You crashed into my brother on your moped."

"Yes, we've been through that."

"And you ended up deducing his entire life by just looking at him."

"Yes." Asami rolled her eyes. "Are you doubting my deducing abilities, Dr. Lieng?"

"No." Bolin was not amused. He swore on his life that he wasn't amused by all of this. His lips were not twitching because he wasn't trying to repress a smirk. And he swore that he wasn't going to rub it in Mako's face once they met up again. He was perfectly calm, and the situation did not amuse him.

He might not have been amused, but he ended up laughing so hard that he couldn't remain upright anyways.


	10. Ajeng (an interlude)

"I'm dying," Asami declared melodramatically, throwing her hand over her forehead as she coughed miserably, wiping her nose on her pajama sleeve.

Bolin, who'd dealt with far worse colds during his life, simply rolled his eyes and patted her on the shoulder. "You're not dying," he gently scolded her. "You're just sick. It happens to everyone."

"Not to me," was Asami's immediate and rather pedantic reply. "I blame Saikhan."

 _Not this again_ , he thought, fighting the urge to smirk like the owl-cat that had eaten the canary-mouse. "You can't blame Saikhan for all of your problems, Asami."

She groaned, a thin and reedy note that took Bolin back to the time where Hiroshu had gotten the measles and had treated it like a gunshot wound. "But  _Bolinnnnn,"_ she complained, "I'm sick." As if to punctuate her statemen, she sneezed loudly with a sound reminding him of a trombone. Then she turned over onto her side and buried her face into the couch cushion, shivering under her red blanket.

"I'm telling Beifong that you're not coming by today," Bolin announced, making to stand up. "As your doctor, I'm not letting you out of the house like this. You'll get half the police sick at this rate."

"No!" Asami ordered him, her voice muffled by the couch cushion. "You can't. I have to solve this case! Do you have any idea how many ways the police officers could muck this up? I have to go!"

"Not today, Asami."

"You're mean."

Bolin pouted even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Would you like a lollipop to cheer you up?" he teased.

She peeked up at him from her couch cushion, looking like she was actually considering it. "A red one?" she mumbled.

Bolin chuckled. He couldn't help himself. "Only the reddest," he promised, standing up to get his friend a lollipop.

One lollipop, six games of Pai Sho, three requests to change the radio station and several tissue boxes later, Asami had finally fallen asleep on the couch, and Bolin was nearly on the way to oblivion.

His eyes suddenly snapped open as he inhaled sharply, a grin forming on his lips as he remembered the one thing that was nearly guaranteed to make Asami feel better.

And then he nearly tripped over himself running to his bedroom to get Ajeng.

* * *

_"Mail call!" the man called, shouldering the bag stuffed full of packages and letters._

_Yuhan, Riya, Hiroshu, and Bolin nearly tripped over their own feet running pell-mell toward the startled messenger. Chouko rolled his eyes affectionately and got to his feet, following the rest of them slowly._

_"Lieutenant Chouko, sir, this one's for you," said the messenger, giving Chouko a stack of letters. Bolin was willing to bet that at least half of them were written by Penga. "Sergeant Niko, for you. Corporal Yuhan, from your mother, it looks like, and PFC Sami, for you. Corporal Yuhan, here's another one—this is from your dad. And this one's for...Lieutenant Lieng?"_

_"Really?" Bolin started in surprise. He hadn't had a letter in ages. Who'd write to him besides Mako? "Who's it from?"_

_"Two things, actually," said the messenger, sifting through his mail bag again. Hiroshu whistled good-naturedly. "One's from your brother. The other's from this Adopt-A-Soldier program thing. Big package, looks like."_

_"Damn, Doc, look at you having all sorts of good luck today," Chouko said, grinning. "Go on, what's it say?"_

_Bolin cradled the letter and package in his arms like they were worth more than gold. "To the victor go the spoils," he replied._

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"He wants privacy, sir," Yuhan translated, rolling his eyes like the fate of the world rested on his shoulders. "Whenever you're ready, Doc."_

_Bolin sat down on his cot, placing the package carefully on the bedspread. He opened the letter, crumpling the envelope slightly and Mako's familiar cramped handwriting awaited him._

Dear Bolin _, it read,_ sorry I haven't written in so long. Life's been busy what with my new job at the power plant. I've been doing triple shifts, and the dragon woman—that's what we guys call the manager—has been talking about promoting me to assistant manager. Korra and I've been on the outs lately, but I think we can handle things.

I miss you, Bo. Sorry you and I can't meet up for Christmas this year. Good luck with everything that's been going on in the Earth Kingdom. Stay safe.

Love,

Mako.

_Bolin shook his head fondly, reading it over to himself again. His brother was being a man of few words as always. Even so, he did appreciate the sentiment, and he smoothed the letter out before he tacked it onto the wall next to his bed with the rest of Mako's letters, all five of them._

_His attention then shifted to the package lying next to him, practically begging to be opened. Like a kid on Christmas, he tore off the bright red and gold seal of the Adopt-A-Soldier program and opened the package, revealing a small carton of cigarettes, a matchbox, some seal jerky, chocolate chip cookies (which he knew Hiroshu would probably sell his soul for), baby wipes, a Zippo lighter, and a scrap of paper resting on top of a toy koi-fish._

Dear Soldier _, the note read in crude, childish handwriting. Bolin wasn't even mad that the child didn't use his first name in the letter—how could she or he have known, anyways?_ I hope you are doing well. I'm sorry that you have to miss Christmas with your family this year.

 _Bolin smiled, shaking his head at the child's thoughtfulness. Usually these Adopt-A-Soldier packages had virtually no compassion concealed in them—Yuhan had once gotten a package of stale seal jerky and a note that had said_ child-killer _on it._

_Not wanting to think about that, he went back to the note._

This is my friend Ajeng,  _the note said_. He keeps me safe from scary monsters, but I think you need him more than I do.

_Bolin stared at the toy koi fish in his hand, grimy and greasy from the heat and smelling slightly of seal jerky and nicotine. It was barely larger than the palm of his hand. Looking closer, it appeared to once have been bright orange. He tried to imagine how this child could've given up his or her plaything, the toy that kept her monsters away. He wouldn't have been able to._

Please please  **please**  take good care of him for me. He likes to swim around and his favorite bedtime story is The Blue Spirit. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you're fighting.

Hugs and kisses,

Nyla LiXun xoxo

_Bolin touched the name at the bottom of the paper, smearing the ink across the page with his sweat. All of a sudden, the cigarettes, crackers, seal jerky, baby wipes and the letter from Mako seemed minimally important compared to this fish. To Ajeng, he corrected himself._

_With a genuine smile, he looked around to make sure no one was watching and cradled Ajeng in his arms._

_(The little fish rested safely in his pocket every time he went out on patrol.)_

* * *

Asami woke up to find the thin light of early afternoon filtering through the living room window. Her limbs ached with fatigue, her nose was still stuffy but her head was finally clear, which meant that she'd be able to make deductions without feeling like someone was banging on her head with a sledgehammer. She knew instinctively that her fever had broken.

Bolin was slumped in the armchair across from her, dead to the world with a blanket haphazardly thrown across him.  _Why did he stay with me?_

She wasn't used to having anyone take care of her when she was sick. Her father had always been busy and her mom had died when she was six, leaving her in the care of very distant nannies and governesses.

It was strange.

Turning her head to find the cause of the mysterious softness pressed against her, she found herself staring at a small, much-loved toy koi-fish. Its round, friendly eyes stared into hers, and she felt a small smile form on her lips as she noticed the permanent marker on its tail fin spelling the name  _Ajeng_  in crude, childish handwriting.

After tucking Ajeng into the crook of her elbow, Asami let healing sleep overtake her once more.


	11. Exceeding Expectations (an interlude)

"I refuse to believe that you're trying to coerce the latest object of your affections into attending an activity this mundane, Dr. Lieng. Surely you have a better idea on how to spend the evening—don't girls usually want to go to dinner and see a mover?"

Bolin, refusing to let Asami tarnish his bad mood, merely buttoned his coat again so that it was even and combed back his hair again, frowning at the rebellious sprig of black hair that stuck out. "First off," he said mildly, "her name's Hamira and she told me herself that she wants to go. Not every girl is the hearts and flowers type. And probending isn't mundane."

Asami rolled her eyes and sat back down in her armchair, smirking. It was a welcome change from her constant pacing around the room, which she'd been doing ever since Beifong had called them to say that Song's trial had been dismissed and he was officially reinstated into the force. Bolin had been forced to deal with mutterings about the chief's mental state since two o'clock yesterday afternoon, and to get some peace he'd snuck out to Asoka's for lunch, which had been where he'd encountered Hamira Femi: a girl his age looking for a good time. He'd suggested the next probending match, and she'd happily agreed, saying that she'd call him if her plans would change.

Now, though, it was fifteen minutes past when they'd agreed to meet, and Bolin's stomach felt like it'd spawned an army of satanic bumbleflies. It'd been a long time since he'd gone on a date—a  _real_  date, because the one with Jaida and his one night stand with a girl in Capital City when he'd been on leave didn't count. Was he really ready for this? What if he experienced a trauma trigger? What would he do then?

"You'll be fine," Asami suddenly said, demonstrating her knack for reading people's minds just as Bolin started to chew his thumbnail nervously. "Honestly, Bolin, you're acting like an unpopular teenager trying to get a date with the homecoming queen. Stop acting so nervous."

Despite himself, he snorted. "Thanks, Asami. Any more stellar advice from the peanut gallery?"

"Yes. Stop biting your fingernails, the appearance of your nailbeds is driving me up a metaphorical and soon to be physical wall."

Before he could retort to that, the phone in the kitchen rang, and he nearly tripped over the rug in his haste to answer it. Amidst Asami's snickers, he picked up the phone, shot his roommate a dirty glare, and replied in what was hopefully a steady voice, "Hello?"

" _Hi, Bolin, it's Hamira."_

"Hey, Hamira," he answered, a smile forming on his lips as he thought of the green-eyed voluptuous beauty that had agreed to be his date tonight. "How're you doin', doll?"

" _I'm doing okay, you?"_

"I'm doing great—I'm really excited to see you tonight."

" _Yeah, about that…uh, it's just that, well…I think I'm going to have to take a rain check for tonight."_

Bolin's stomach dropped to his knees in disappointment. "Oh. Oh, uh, how come?" He respected that she'd called to let him know ahead of time instead of jilting him, but it still hurt that after all of her excitement at seeing the Red Sands Rabaroos play she was cancelling on him. "Do you have a prior commitment?"

" _Yes, uh, my uncles are having their twentieth anniversary dinner tonight and I can't really skip out of it without dealing with verbal backlash from my family. I'm really sorry; I really did want to come."_

"Hey, no sweat," Bolin assured her, not wanting her to feel bad. After all, she did have a genuine excuse for cancelling. "Maybe some other time?"

Hamira released a breathy laugh from the other end of the line.  _"Maybe some other time,"_ she echoed before hanging up on him, leaving the dial tone ringing in his ears as he slowly replaced the telephone back in its proper place.

"So," Asami said from an inch behind him, and it took everything he had not to punch her once he whirled around in surprise, his heart racing. "Judging by the melancholy look in your eyes, your slumped shoulders and your slow movements, I'm going to take a leap here and say that Miss Hamira decided to cancel on you."

"She had a prior commitment," he refuted weakly, sinking into a kitchen chair. This sucked, and not just because his date had decided to take a rain check. Now he was in possession of two tickets to one of the most anticipated matches in probending history, and he would probably end up scalping them and spending the evening at home. "What am I supposed to do with these things now?" He slapped the slightly crumpled tickets onto the dining table, thinking of the money he'd wasted, and then a Raia-esque brainwave struck him so suddenly it was like he'd been hit by a brick.

Asami's green eyes narrowed just as his eyes widened and his lower lip pouted out. "No," she immediately said, shaking her head. "No, no, no—"

"Hey, Asami," Bolin said, trying to act suave as he leaned forward, his elbows pressing down on the table as a wide smirk blossomed on his face. "When was the last time you saw a probending match?"

* * *

"I cannot believe you talked me into this, Bolin."

Bolin shrugged, tossing a kernel of popcorn into his mouth as an influx of people poured into the stadium, fighting over seats and trying to catch glimpses of the teams doing warm-ups in their dugouts. He offered the box of popcorn to Asami, who refused it and she stuffed her hands in the pocket of her trench coat, looking as out of place as Bolin felt at the tenement house where they'd found TongXing. "You agreed to it, remember?"

"You begged me, remember?" was her sharp rebuttal, and with a look from him, she relaxed slightly, although she still appeared more than marginally uncomfortable. "I don't even really know how this sport works. Do they just attack each other until they fall into the water and the last one standing wins?"

He paused, trying to remember. "Driven down to the barest essentials, yeah," he allowed. "But if I remember correctly, you're supposed to gain as much territory as possible in three minutes flat. Or I guess you can drive the other team members over the edge of the ring."

She tapped her chin with her pointer finger, accepting this. "And is it a free-for-all brawl or are there rules? I'd hate for this sport to simply be an illogical debauchery of martial arts."

Bolin rolled his eyes. "Intentionally hitting the ref is illegal, and the benders aren't allowed to hit the roof of the arena with their bending. Stepping over the line without the ref's say-so and unnecessary roughness costs the player a one zone penalty. If you do any of that, you get a yellow fan, and if you break a rule three times, you get a red fan and you're out of the game."

"And since there are three rounds, I assume if the opposing teams win the first two rounds they battle it out in a tiebreaker."

"Got it in one," Bolin said, holding up his pointer finger. "The ref does a coin flip, and whichever team wins gets to choose the bender to duke it out—it's one on one, and you can only go against your element, and the winner of the one-on-one wins the round. They fight on a raised platform in the center of the ring."

Before Asami could ask any more questions, the lights in the arena began to dim, and a cheer rose up from the crowd as Shiro Shinobi stepped into the commentator's box. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he announced, practically firing his words into the microphone. Bolin, who hadn't seen a match in years, found himself leaning forward in excitement. "I'm Shiro Shinobi and I'm coming to you  _live_  from Republic City's Probending Arena, where after a year of waiting the Probending Championship is finally here. That's right, folks, tonight is the first set of matches in our single elimination sixteen team bracket. And I gotta tell ya—these are the most tenacious and talented bending trios this arena's ever seen."

Bolin snuck a glance at Asami, whose brows were furrowed as she stared at the lifts taking up the opposing teams on opposite sides of the playing field.  _Here we go,_ he thought to himself.

"In this corner," Shiro said, drawing out his words for suspense, "we have our rookie champions who've made it this far all on their own. They are ferocious and clever, the true rallied rage of the probending cage, the femme fatales of the ring—ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Adi, Ula and Umi of… _THE RED SANDS RABAROOS!"_

The crowd was on its feet before Shiro had even finished speaking, applauding and whistling and stomping their feet as the lift ascended into the ring and three muscular women in their twenties stepped out, waving to the crowd. Umi, their waterbender, blew kisses to the audience while Adi, the firebending team captain, scrutinized her fingernails in an attempt to look blasé—although Bolin could tell that she was just as excited as her counterparts. Years of living with Mako had taught him how to look for emotion in people who didn't like to show it.

"And in this corner," Shiro said, raising his voice to be heard over the commotion of the crowd. They quieted, wanting to hear who he was going to announce next. "Make no mistakes, folks, this team is a real doozy! They're the true butterbee's knees in this competition, the slamming trio who've kicked the sorry butts of every team before them! Ladies and gentlemen, this team brings a new meaning to having a fiery temper: allow me to present to you, Chan, Jiron, and Hiro of… _THE BAU LING BUZZARD WASPS!"_

The Buzzard Wasps weren't as crowd-friendly as the Red Sands Rabaroos were, but the applause generated by the crowd was near deafening—Chan, Jiron and Hiro seemed to take it in stride, waving as they got into position on their separate sides.

A bell dinged from over into the commentator's box, and Chan immediately released a fire blast toward Ula, who raised an earth disk and kicked it to her opponent. Umi pulled up water from one of the metal grates and fired it directly at Jiron, who had to do a back flip to leap out of the way of danger before summoning a fire ball and sending it toward Adi.

Chan and Umi were in a fierce battle from what Bolin could see, and as the firebender blasted her with fire, Umi hastily created a water shield that blocked the blast but still sent her back a few feet.

"And Umi of the Rabaroos is the first one to feel the heat," Shiro declared, his statements rapid-firing to coexist with the speed of the game. "The two teams are wasting no time to try and knock each other out of the first zone!"

Umi, in retaliation with her cheeks bright red, attempted an uppercut on Jiron with a waterbending fist, which he instantly dodged with a nimble cartwheel. "Jiron shakes off Umi's attack with a "No thank you, ma'am," but she's not taking no for an answer! Oh, dang it, folks, with some help from Captain Adi, Jiron's sliding back, will he go into the next—oh,  _ouch_ , Ula's hit with a waterbending blast to the chest, but she's not out for the count just yet."

Hiro, who summoned a deluge of water from his grate, shot another blast of water at Ula's head, who got knocked backwards into the second zone. The crowd began to boo, and Bolin agreed with them. "Come on, ref!" he shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth to be heard over the commotion. "Since when was the chest part of the head? That's illegal!"

Adi spared a glance at her fallen teammate, who got back up shakily, looking ready to continue. This was met by a round of applause from the slightly disgruntled audience, and Asami leaned forward in her chair, looking interested.

"So," Bolin said, not looking away from the game, "are you interested yet, Asami?"

In response, Asami stood up and yelled at Shiro, "Come on! Do you even know what a hosing foul is? My dad doesn't even watch this game and he could've made a better call than that!"

Bolin tried not to smirk or tear his eyes away from the game, where Umi and Hiro were throwing blast after blast of water at each other while Jiron and Chan attempted to take down Adi and Ula. Each person was giving it their all, and the doctor wasn't sure what the outcome of the match would be. Jiron launched a disk and Chan jumped over him, sending out a fire blast. Umi flipped forward and launched her own water blast at the firebender, knocking him onto Jiron and sending them both back into the second zone. Adi, obviously invigorated by the change of events, sent a fire blast at Hiro's feet that tripped him into Jiron and Chan.

"And the Rabaroos get the green light and advance into Buzzard Wasp territory! I told you this was going to be a doozy, folks! I haven't seen a match like this since Toza was a part of the Boar-Q-Pines! Oh, no, looks like Jiron's in trouble, he's teetering over the drink! Nice water shot from Umi, and it pushes Jiron in! Well, he'll be back for the next round."

The Buzzard Wasps didn't take the loss of their teammate kindly, and they attacked with gusto. Adi and Ula dodged a water and fire attack, but Umi was pushed back. Just as the bell rang, Adi grabbed Umi's hand and pulled her forward out of the line of fire.

The utmost right sign of the scoreboard turned blue. "Round one goes to the Red Sands Rabaroos!" screamed Shiro, and the crowd went wild. Bolin whooped, and Asami applauded, saying that they actually deserved it. "The other team's strategy is off," she told him. "They keep on using earthbending attacks, but once Jiktun—"

"Jiron."

"Yes, him, once Jiron is out they don't have a strategy anymore. I get it, he's their captain, but still, they need to rely a bit more on their waterbender. Hiro, right?" At Bolin's nod, she continued. "His water attacks create a stream of propulsion that's more powerful than Jiron or Chan's attacks. It's a much better strategy, really."

Bolin's brows furrowed, because he'd never thought about it like that. Before he could ask her more questions, the bell rang again, and the Buzzard Wasps managed to push the Rabaroos into the second zone. Chan, Jiron and Hiro advanced, and Jiron directed a disk at Umi, who blocked it with her waterbending. Chan punched two fire blasts, which Adi blocked with her fire blasts. In the end, though, Jiron managed to make Umi trip into the second zone, while Chan and Hiro collaborated to push Adi and Ula into the second zone as well just as the bell signaled the end of the second round.

"The Buzzard Wasps looked buzzed out, and for good reason! They barely managed to hold onto their victory in that round, but it's still anyone's game right now, folks, as we're entering our third and final round. The question is: which of them wants this victory more?"

Apparently, both of them wanted it equally. Bolin watched, practically chewing his nails in his excitement. Asami was jumping up and down, screaming along with the crowd as the Buzzard Wasps gained more territory. It appeared that Adi's team was exhausted, even though the firebender was still going strong. Ula fought, but she was eventually knocked out of the ring and into the water by Jiron's earth disk.

"Ula's out, she's out of the ring, folks! The Rabaroos are down an earthbender, and it looks like the Buzzard Wasps are taking as much advantage of this as possible. Adi and Umi are giving it their all, but the Wasps are gaining territory quicker than the Fire Nation! Chan's teetering, but— _oh_ , he's back, and—oh Spirits Adi is out of the ring! It looks like the hopes of the Rabaroos lie with their waterbender."

The waterbender in question looked ready to pee herself as she dodged the salvos of bending barrages, weaving and bobbing between fire blasts and earth disks from the opposite side. It looked like she was going to be overtaken the second that she was knocked back another zone.

"Come on, Rabaroos!" Bolin shouted, starting a chant. "Umi, Umi, Umi!"

Asami cupped her hands over her mouth and began shouting at Umi, "Come on! Angle yourself, you can still get a knockout! Come on, Umi! Let them get in front of you!"

"She's gaining territory now, folks, but with a few seconds left on the clock it might be time to say goodbye to the championship tournament—wait, what's going on? Umi is angling herself, she's gaining more ground, the Wasps are lined up and she's dodging them!" Shiro sounded as surprised as Bolin felt. "Look at her go, she's getting them lined up!"

"Jet propulsion, jet propulsion!" yelled Asami, jumping up and down. "Come on, Umi!"

And then, channeling the water from the grates, Umi knocked Chan, Jiron and Hiro out of the ring with a single blast of water a split second before the bell rang.

The arena was deadly silent, save for the splashes of the Buzzard Wasps. Even Shiro didn't know what to make of it, and apparently neither did the Rabaroos. Umi stared at her hands like she couldn't believe what she'd done.

Bolin decided to break the tension with a loud whoop, screaming, "Yeah, Umi, you did it!" The rest of the audience followed in his footsteps, yelling Umi's name and words of congratulations. Asami grinned at Umi, who jumped around the arena blowing kisses to the audience while beaming brightly enough to outshine the sun.

"She did it," she said to Bolin, clasping her hands together. "She actually did it."

"Like you had any doubt," Bolin replied, brushing the popcorn that he'd spilled off his lap and onto the floor. "You were cheering for her louder than her teammates."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Shiro, finally getting his head back into the game, "with Umi pulling off the upset of the season with her incredible knockout, the match goes to the Red Sands Rabaroos!"

The crowd, which had fallen silent once Shiro had started talking again, once more began to scream and shout. Some of the die-hard Buzzard Wasps fans were booing, but they were quickly drowned out by the pleased yells of more than ninety percent of the arena. Bolin hugged Asami in pure euphoria, and although it seemed that she didn't know what to do at first, she eventually raised her arms and patted his back.

And in that moment, everything seemed perfect.

* * *

Of course, Bolin knew that the peace could never last.

They'd tried to get through the crowd once Bolin collected his winnings, but then there had been an emergency with one of the players in the Buzzard Wasps who needed his dislocated shoulder fixed. They couldn't ask any of the waterbenders because neither of them were healers, and, because of some cosmic disorder in the universe, Bolin had been the only one with a medical license in the entire arena.

This was how he found himself setting Jiron's shoulder in the team dugout while Asami offered the players more critiques than congratulations. Umi had hugged Asami for nearly thirty seconds straight while spitfiring thank-yous at her. The consulting detective appeared mildly uncomfortable during all of that, but managed to accept the compliment in the spirit that it was offered.

"Relax that shoulder for a while," Bolin ordered the young earthbender, who stared up at him sheepishly. "Put ice on it and I'll write you a prescription for hydromorphone in the morning if you need any pain medications. Chan and Hiro have my permission to fawn over you as much as they'd like."

"You need to stop relying on your earthbender so much," Asami was telling Adi and Chan, who were paying as much attention to her as if she was their drill sergeant. "I get it, he or she is an important player, but in the end, it's the waterbender that packs a really good knockout. I'd explain the physics of it to you but I don't want you to strain your funny little minds too much."

" _Okay_ ," Bolin declared, standing up and beginning to push Asami toward the door before the pro-benders twice her size could realize that she'd insulted them, "thank you all this was a lovely evening and I hope to do it again soon bye."

Luckily, it was much less crowded outside, so it was much easier for them to find a way home. Asami offered to flag down the Breeze, but Bolin waved her off. "I don't mind walking," he said, and the two of them set off down the sidewalk. Asami popped the collar of her trench coat up against the breeze, and Bolin stuffed his hands into his pockets. "So," he said mischievously, "what did you think of probending? Pretty sweet, right?"

Asami shrugged, appearing blasé again. "It was…an interesting and unforeseeable way to have spent my evening. And it did exceed my expectations, but…" She sighed, biting her lip as she searched for the perfect way to describe it. "Truth be told, I find the science of the sport quite fascinating. All of the statistical analysis, all of the strategy. It's very invigorating to watch from an analytical point of view. Other than that, though, it's really quite stupid. I feel like it's just an excuse for the people down there to beat the living daylights out of each other."

"Wow." Bolin rolled his eyes, playfully punching Asami on the shoulder. "Tell me how you really feel, then."

"I just did, Bolin, weren't you listening?"

He debated on telling her that it had been a rhetorical statement, but decided against it. After all, her response had been rhetorical too. "You know," he said instead as they turned a corner, "I wanted to be a probender, growing up. Me and Mako had it all planned, but…then I just lost interest in it. My earthbending was good enough to get me into a minor circuit, but I didn't want to do it for my entire life, y'know? And it wouldn't make me that much money anyways. So I enlisted, and became a doctor. Mako got more jobs—he works, like, quadruple shifts now at the power plant and at restaurants and other odd jobs. It all turned out okay, just not in the way that I expected."

Asami stared at Bolin like she didn't know what to make of him, and then her expression softened. "And do you think it's better this way?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you think it's better that you became a doctor and enlisted in the United Forces rather than just becoming a probender? Do you think you made the right decision?"

Bolin had to stop and think about it. If he'd joined the probending team, he could've lived an entirely different life. His relationship with Mako would be better, he'd get plenty of girls because probending was an admirable gig, and his bending would have improved tenfold. Who knew? Maybe it would've gone well for him. He could've been rich and famous.

But then he thought of Chouko, and Kimiri, and Yuhan, and all of the members of the Third Battalion that he'd grown so close to. He thought of the experience he'd gained as a doctor, the pride he felt when he'd received his promotion to a second lieutenant. He thought of things that had scarred him and ended up shaping him into the man he was today. If it hadn't been for him, then Takumi would've died numerous times and Hojo would've ended up court-martialed. Hell, if he hadn't been discharged from the army, he never would have even met Asami. They never would've become friends.

"Looking back on it now," he said once they arrived at 221B Baker Street, "I think I definitely made the right decision."


	12. The Silver Hammer: Act One, Part 1

With her roommate Miki out for the night dancing with friends, Xióng was able to let down her guard for once and study to her heart's content. Her professor had promised the class that they would be having a pop quiz on the ten different definitions of pataphysics sometime this week, and there was no better time to study than now. Whenever Miki was home (and she was sweet, no doubt), it was impossible to study because the girl always wanted to chat with her. Miki was majoring in law, whereas Xióng was into science. Their very first spat ended up with Xióng switching majors from chemistry to pataphysics because Miki hadn't liked the scent of chemicals in their dorm room—and apparently, her neighbors hadn't either.

Either or, Xióng now spent late nights all alone with her books and test tubes, and it didn't bother her much. She liked the silence and preferred it any day to Miki having fun with her flavor of the month boyfriends. (And Miki loved rubbing her lack of virginity in Xióng's face…)

She ran her hand through her curls and sighed, adjusting her glasses. "Okay," she said to herself, her voice echoing. "Okay. Number four. Pataphysics, 'the science of the particular', does not, therefore, study the rules governing the general recurrence of—of…damn it." She snuck a peek at her notes. "Governing the general recurrence of a periodic incident—that's the expected case—so much as study the games…" Xióng snuck another peek at her notes, groaning inwardly. At this rate, she was going to fail her quiz. "Study the games governing the special occurrence of a sporadic accident, the expected case…" Her shoulders slumped. "Raava,  _why_  did I listen to Miki and drop chemistry?" She wouldn't admit it out loud, but the science of imaginary solutions was so  _boring_.

She clicked on the radio to fill the silence, suddenly not finding it amicable anymore. Shiro Shinobi's talk show was on right now, and she let his city drawl fill the room as she scribbled down the difference between anomalies and pataphors, not really paying attention to her words. Maybe she should've gone out with Miki after all. It would've been a hell of a lot more fun than what she was doing right now.

The phone in the corner rang, and Xióng sprinted to answer it. She'd take anything for a break from this stern monotony. Not wanting to sound desperate, however, she waited for it to ring a few times before picking up, hoping she wasn't panting when she quickly said "Hello?"

"Hello, can I speak to Xióng Yali?"

Her brows furrowed. She didn't recognize the voice on the other line. "This is Xióng," she said cautiously. "Who is this?"

"Oh, right, my mistake," the definitely male voice said on the other line. Xióng was surprised that a boy would be calling her under any circumstances. "It's Maikesiwei. Y'know, from Advanced Trig?"

After a few moments of pondering, she recognized the voice. She knew who that was, it was the cute guy that sat in the back of the room and always got better grades than almost everyone in the class. But they'd never interacted before, so why was he calling her now? It couldn't be for trig help, it was evident that she was awful at it. "Hi?" Spirits, she sounded stupid. "Why, uh, why're you calling me?"

"Well…" His voice quickly flourished into a sing-song manner as he sang into the telephone, his voice pure, "Can I take you out to the movers, Xióng? I can be at your home in ten minutes, what do you say?"

Despite herself, Xióng giggled, her shoulders bunching up. "I…well, I'm a little busy right now…" She knew her excuse was feeble the second that it left her lips, and she prayed that Maikesiwei wasn't the type to give up after one phone call.  _Please, please, ask me again, I dunno if I can survive the rest of the evening on my own…_

"Oh." Maikesiwei actually sounded deterred, damn it.  _Please don't be deterred, I'm just an idiot, please don't give up..._  "Um, then maybe another t—"

"Actually, I'm just finishing up my pataphysics homework," she said quickly, trying to salvage the situation. "So you can still come."

"Fancy." She could see his grin—hopefully it was as piercing as it was at nine in the morning. "I'll be by in about ten minutes. See you then, babe."

With the dial tone ringing in her ears, Xióng celebrated with fervor by throwing her arms in the air and letting loose an ecstatic squeal. This was fantastic! She'd actually been asked out on a date by one of the best looking guys in Republic City University—at least in her side of the building. Wait until she told Miki that she'd been asked out on a date!

Spirits, what was she going to  _wear_?

Xióng tore Miki's closet door opening, pouring through the skimpy dresses and tight tunics before deciding on a creamy blouse and dark leggings with gold flats. Miki probably wouldn't miss them, anyway, was her reasoning as she ran a comb through her unruly hair, even putting on the contact lenses that she used for special occasions. She hoped that she looked decent enough for him not to immediately slam the door in her face.

The doorbell rang and Xióng ran to answer it, pausing only to smooth down her hair. "Hello," she greeted to Maikesiwei, who was dressed in a simple tunic and cargo pants, making her wonder if she was overdressed. "You look really nice, Xióng."

"Thanks, you too." Maikesiwei looked awkward as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Xióng couldn't help but wonder why they were so deep. Was he hiding something in them? "Should we go? I was thinking we could go and see  _The Jazz Singer._ "

"Yeah, sounds awesome!" She'd always wanted to go and see  _The Jazz Singer_ —any mover, really. The industry had started booming thanks to Iknik Blackstone Varrick and Zhu Li Moon, and was quickly becoming one of the hottest things in the Four Nations. "Just hang on, I'm going to write Miki a note where I've gone. Don't want her getting worried about my whereabouts, y'know." She turned the sheet of paper with her pataphysics notes on it over and wrote on it, dictating her words as she did so. "Miki, I'll be back as soon as possible. I've gone out on a date with M—"

And then something hard and pointy slammed into the back of her head. Colors blurred and sounds stilled. Xióng wasn't sure if she was screaming or doing nothing. A supernova exploded in the back of her skull as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell onto the kitchen floor to the sound of Maikesiwei's laughter.

* * *

Any comfort of spending a quiet evening looking over the notes from their last case and adding bits of information onto his résumé was soon swept away when the violin's chords began playing with ever increasing volume and speed. At first it had been soothing background noise but now it'd become kind of annoying. "'Sami," Bolin said cautiously, knowing that the wrong words could potentially set off his friend for the worse, "could you please play a little quieter?"

The playing stopped instantly, the bow lowering from the strings of the instrument as if it had been mortally insulted. Asami placed the bow and violin back on the stand, where it balanced precariously as she placed her hands on her hips and glared at Bolin like he'd asked if she had any illegitimate children. "This piece," Asami replied, "is  _The Last Agni Kai_ , and I can't play it  _quieter_ , Dr. Lieng. It is required by its composer that I have to play it from the soul."

He rolled his eyes, knowing that when she got into these musical moods nothing he said could make it better. (And it was fairly obvious that she was aggravated with him—she'd called him 'Dr. Lieng'.) Riya had always told him that he had no musical ear—his belting of  _The Secret Tunnel_  had caused her, Yuhan and Hiroshu to plead cruel and unusual punishment. Chouko had never gotten involved in these disputes. Colonel Jiang had usually left the Third Battalion alone, unless he had mission requests. "Then can I ask you to turn down the volume on your soul?"

Asami stuck her tongue out at him, an act that he never thought he'd see her do in a million years. "You're hilarious, Bolin," she deadpanned.

"I know," he remarked cockily, raising an eyebrow. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on?" He paused, wondering if she'd ask him to elaborate just to spite him. He did it without her prompting. "Meaning, what's gotten you so pissed at the world lately?"

"Boredom!" Her exclamation nearly caught him off guard, as did when she began walking toward the window. "I've checked with the Breeze and his network and nothing's come up of importance about Amon. As for other crimes, serial killers, burglaries, etcetera, it's as if the entire city has declared a cessation on crime. I am bored."

"Asami, something worthwhile will turn up soon," Bolin assured. "Believe me, I grew up on the streets, and a city this size can't be quiet for long. It's, like, physically impossible." Without any reason, he found himself hoping that a crime would occur, if only to prevent a boredom tantrum from happening. The last time she was bored she'd shot holes into their ceiling—something that Mrs. Shirui had taken out of their rent. He hoped that the older lady's disappointed look would quell Asami from doing bad things in her boredom. "I thought you were working on that case that Beifong gave you." He'd heard about it from the Breeze, who'd been giving him a ride to a job interview. "Did you finish that one yet?"

"That old thing?" she huffed. "Don't insult me, it was easy, nothing more than a petty burglary. Beifong only thought I'd be interested in it because it was some political scandal."

"And?" he prompted. "Was it?"

"No. As I was saying, the Chief's assumption was founded on the basis that the crime took place at a dignitary's house and there were papers missing from the safe. Therefore, political plot." She breathed out a long sigh, slumping back into her chair. "After about two hours of deliberation, I found the papers dumped in the park across from the crime scene. It was just petty theft and burglary; the police can handle that on their own." She shook her head in disgust. "I haven't had a proper case since Hamato Yoon and that was weeks ago!"

"You can't expect serial killers to pop up for your convenience," Bolin pointed out, leaning back in his armchair. "And if you're bored, you can always help me work on my résumé."

Her brows furrowed. "And why do you need a résumé?"

His mouth dropped open slightly. "…for work. I've been talking about this all week, remember? I'm applying for a position in the clinic downtown?" Then it hit him and he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Really, Asami? You deleted it?"

To her everlasting credit, she looked a bit sheepish, her eyes casting downward at the rug on the floor. It was currently stained with a metric truckload of failed experiments, and had gone from a nice white to beige in the last few weeks. "I have had a lot going on, Doctor," she asserted. "But it does ring a small bell." She paused, releasing a quick breath as she leaned forward in her chair.  _She must really be bored stiff._  "What have you got on your résumé so far?"

"Uh…" Bolin quickly put on his reading glasses, squinting at the words he'd written. "I wrote that I was an army doctor with the Third Battalion, I listed where I did residency—"

"What was your rank?"

He paused, looking up. "Second lieutenant," he said. "Why?"

"From what I know regarding military policy, shouldn't you have been promoted to captain once you obtained your medical degree?"

"Oh." Bolin chuckled. This was going to be interesting, he could tell. "I became a doctor when I was twenty-six—everyone called me Doc before that because I was a medic, but when I got my degree they could—never mind. Anyways, getting my degree should've entitled me to be automatically promoted to Captain except I didn't want to go through officer's school because I was too busy with medical training and going out in the field as a medic. When Chouko told me that I had to get a promotion otherwise Colonel Jiang would recruit someone higher up than me from the Fifth Battalion to take my place in his unit, I took a quick course in officer's school, got a rec from the colonel and Chouko, and  _voila_ , here I am. Got promoted to an officer right before we assembled our unit in the Third Battalion." It was an odd explanation, but his time in the army had been anything but normal sometimes. He didn't regret becoming an officer—otherwise he never would've become better friends with Chouko and never would've met Raia, Takumi, Riya, Hiroshu, Kimiri, Yuhan, or any of the others. "I'll write it down."

She nodded but didn't look particularly interested. "What else did you say?"

Bolin looked back at his sheet of paper. "Uh…professional experience and skill highlights."

Asami sighed, resting her head in her hands. "Boring," she intoned, and when he shot her a glare she relented. "Look, try…just be you during the interview and you should be fine. Write down that you have regular access to the morgue if you think it'll impress them."

He laughed. "First off, you're the one with that kind of access and I still don't even know how."

"Dr. Tirril owed me a favor." She closed her eyes. "I thought it would be beneficial to my work so I saw no reason not to cash in on it."

"Figures," Bolin snorted, placing his pen and résumé on the coffee table before staring out the window. "Everyone owes you favors, Asami. Wouldn't be surprised if President Raiko did too."

Asami opened one eye and then the other. She sat up, muscles tensing, and Bolin could practically see the energy starting to crackle under her skin as the telltale sounds of the door opening and Mrs. Shirui and Beifong's voices came from downstairs, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

In a flash, Asami's blasé expression became alight with unholy glee. "Bolin," she whispered, excitement leaking through her tone despite her attempt to sound perfectly blasé. "This is it."

"This is it," the doctor echoed, thanking the Spirits that his friend's boredom (and his also, although he wouldn't admit it) would be alleviated at long last. Even if it wasn't that big of a deal, it would give them an excuse to leave the apartment for a few hours. Asami shot him a quicksilver grin and then sat back in her chair, wiped her expression, crossed her ankles and picked up a newspaper just as Beifong appeared in the doorway.

The Chief appeared disheveled, almost as if she'd run the whole way over. Specks of blood dotted her uniform, and one hand rested on her hip while the other gripped the doorframe. Her green eyes flickered between him and Asami, as if wondering which of them would be the first to speak. Bolin fought the urge to cough, not wanting to break the fragile silence that hung in the air between them.

For a long moment they all stared at each other, the awkwardness between them coagulating until a few seconds later when Asami folded her newspaper in half before setting it across her lap with nary a crinkle. If she'd paused to take a sip of tea, she would've looked like the most posh person in the city. "So," she said, quirking a brow, "I assume that you found her."


	13. The Silver Hammer: Act One, Part 2

_Bolin sat on his bunk, organizing his medical bag for what seemed like the thousandth time. Yes, there was the sulfa powder, the penicillin, the bandages, the gauze, the aspirin, Ajeng—he felt like he could list its contents with his eyes shut. He knew the others were bored too: Hiroshu had had to invent some new card games for them to play once they'd all gotten thoroughly sick of poker and BS and the like, and Yuhan and Riya had taken to scamming the other units for old books and board games. It'd been ages since their last mission, and it'd been completed flawlessly, so what was Colonel Jiang playing at with the lack of a new one?_

" _Doc, I'm bored," Yuhan proclaimed from his bunk, where he was lying upside down. Riya and Hiroshu seemed to be timing how fast the blood would rush to his face, and Bolin didn't reprimand him._

" _Y'know, Yuhan, you_ could _do something productive," Bolin suggested, even though he had no clue what Yuhan could actually do. Short of begging Colonel Jiang for a mission, which was what Chouko had gone to do, there really wasn't anything to be done. "If you keep hanging upside down like that you won't be able to tell the difference between up and down."_

_Before the corporal could offer up a scathing response, the door to their quarters flew open and Chouko flew in with a mischievous grin on his face—the likes of which Bolin hadn't seen in ages. Yuhan nearly gave himself a concussion getting back to an upright position. "Gentlemen—and lady," the lieutenant said with a gesture in Riya's general direction. "At ease, please."_

" _What's with the rhyming scheme, sir?" Bolin asked, relaxing from his salute and offering his commanding officer a grin._

" _Well, everyone, it just so happens that our beloved colonel has decided to grant us a mission," Chouko announced. He immediately held up his hand to quell the exclamations of delight and Hiroshu's statement of 'About damn time!' "Not just any mission, though. This isn't our usual hill of beans."_

" _Lieutenant, are you going to tell us what our mission is or are you gonna keep us in suspense?" Riya crossed her arms over her chest, the smile in her eyes counteracting the frown on her lips. "We've been waiting forever!"_

" _Well, gather round and I'll tell you." They all stepped closer to Chouko, an identical look of curiosity reflected on each of their faces. "I assume you've been paying attention to the news around here, 'bout how Fort Bosco and the Misty Palms Oasis got taken over by the New Freedom Fighters?"_

_They all replied with an affirmative because honestly, they'd have to be FNGs to not be on top of something like that._

" _Colonel Jiang and the other bigwigs have organized a plan to recapture them—they've got intelligence scoping out both places. President Raiko is on his way over here right now, and we're to escort him to Fort Bosco for peace talks. He wants to try and get the N-double F's and the sandbender tribes on our side."_

_Bolin's jaw nearly dropped to his knees. Riya looked like she was about to faint. Hiroshu's eyes were so wide they looked ready to plop out of their sockets. Yuhan took several steps back as he voiced what was on everyone's minds: "You—sir, the president wants us to escort him? We get to meet the president?"_

" _Yes, we get to meet the president, Corporal," Chouko explained with a laugh at Yuhan's gobsmacked expression. "But we aren't the only ones on this mission."_

" _We kinda get that, sir," Bolin replied with a raised eyebrow and a small chuckle. For all of his good qualities, Chouko really didn't know when it was best to elaborate. "Are you gonna tell us who else is on this mission?"_

" _Unit Two-Six-Two, Seventh Battalion," Chouko answered. "That's the one led by Major Tran, Doc." Bolin knew Major Tran, alright. The man talked like he had spent far too much of his time as a child listening to cowboy serials on the radio. Both he and Chouko had had the pleasure of interacting with him during a mission a few years ago. "And the Howling Commandos—yes, the ones from the Tenth Battalion—are in on it too."_

_Bolin couldn't help but release a shocked swear word, Riya a few seconds behind him. The Tenth Battalion Howling Commandos were quite possibly the best combat team in the United Forces—discounting General Iroh and Commander Bumi's battalions, of course. Led by Colonel Kiko "Hot Lips" Yanlin and Lieutenant Colonel Fei Nianzhu, their efficiency rating was at a staggering 98%: a rating that made Chouko's unit look like shit. Not to mention that the lowest ranking member of that unit still ranked higher than his commanding officer._

_He tried to picture Colonel Yanlin, Major Tran and Chouko all working together with President Raiko breathing down their necks and deduced that he would have to get a lot more aspirin from the other medics._

" _The other teams arrive in two days, and President Raiko arrives at the end of the week," Chouko said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Welcome to Operation Storm Front, everyone."_

"Well, Chief Beifong," Asami's hands flew to her hips as she spoke and she cocked her head to the side, "are you going to tell us the identity of the victim or are you going to make us guess?"

While Beifong shot the consulting detective a look that could make flowers wilt, Bolin snuck a glance at the kitchen floor, which was where the victim lay. The girl was of small stature and looked to be around Riya's age—that was to say around eighteen or nineteen. With her dark brown curls, cream-colored blouse and jeans tucked into shiny gold flats, the victim was the poster child of people all dressed up with nowhere to go. She wasn't going to be winning any beauty pageants any time soon, either: discounting the blood still leaking from the dent in her skull and smearing her face, her face was oval and not precisely pretty, mostly because of a slightly overlarge nose.

"Her name is Xióng Yali," Beifong finally answered. "Nineteen years old, single, majoring in pataphysics. She was found here by her roommate Miki Kiangsi." Noticing the gleam in Asami's eyes, she immediately shook her head. "I know what you're thinking, Asami, but she checks out. Ms. Kiangsi has an alibi; she was out dancing with her friends, and her friends all have alibis too."

"So come on," Saikhan chipped in, his tone laden with sarcasm. "Do your thing. Deduce her. We're all waiting, Sato."

Asami threw him a contemptuous look that put Beifong's glare to shame. "Captain Saikhan, seeing as we are currently in the victim's dorm room, even you should be capable of locating most of the relevant details regarding her imminent demise." She examined Xióng's body as she spoke, pulling up each eyelid in turn. "Dr. Lieng?"

Bolin dredged up his professionalism and stepped forward, after a quick glance at Beifong for confirmation that it was okay to do so.

"Right," he said, performing a few basic checks. "Obviously, the COD was some kind of blunt force head trauma. Closed case because," he indicated to the rest of the room, "her brains are not splattered all over the floor. Skull is dented, large cuts on her scalp—the weapon was sharp. It wasn't, like, a tire or anything."

"A tire?" Saikhan laughed. "Who the hell would kill someone with a tire?"

Before either Asami or Beifong could say anything, Bolin replied, his voice somewhat shaky, "You wouldn't believe the things that I've seen before, Captain." He'd never forget when he was eleven years old and he'd witnessed the Triple Threat Triads beating up a man with a tire for not paying rent. His brains had splattered all over the sidewalk and some of the Red Monsoon rookies had ended up clearing it away.

"Head trauma," Asami mused. "That's certainly efficient."

Bolin ignored her. "And judging by the rigor mortis, she's been dead for…hmm, around eighteen hours. When did the roommate get in?"

"Around five o'clock in the afternoon. Apparently she stayed over at a friend's house." Beifong glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall. "And Xióng Yali was killed last night, around midnight," she calculated. The chief then turned to Asami. "What can you give me?"

Asami looked as though she'd been waiting for that question all day. "The killer was male, probably above average height and handsome, at least by traditional standards." She glanced at Saikhan with polite distaste. "And when I say traditional, I mean by the victim's standards."

Bolin stifled a chortle at Saikhan's puce face, although the doctor couldn't help but wonder if he'd be thought of as attractive by traditional standards.  _Spirits, I'm turning into Takumi._  "Anything else? What was her relationship with the killer?"

"She was obviously expecting him, and they knew each other—maybe not well, but they still knew each other."

Beifong and Bolin exchanged confused glances. "Uh, you've lost me, 'Sami," he said, his brows furrowing in confusion. "How do you know that?"

Asami let out an exasperated exhale. "Glasses," she said in her best 'you-are-all-idiots' voice. "Her glasses are right here on the kitchen table. Am I the only one with eyes in my head?"

She sighed again at their blank faces. "There's a box of contact lenses in the bathroom. Dusty, not been used much, but she's wearing them now." She waved aimlessly at the body. "Minus five prescription in both eyes, which means she's nearsighted and seriously needs her glasses in order to function." She leaned against the table, where several pataphysics textbooks were scattered. "Judging by the tan lines on the bridge of her nose she wears her glasses a lot, even for reading, so what could've prompted her to take off her glasses and put in contact lenses?" She looked around hopefully, and then shook her head in disbelief. "I'm just wasting my breath."

Bolin spoke up. "You mean she took them off because she thought the killer was attractive?" he asked.

Asami pointed at him like he'd discovered the secrets of the universe. " _Thank_  you, Bolin! Why else wouldn't she want to be seen in her glasses? Not that they would've done much in the long run toward her overall beauty—"

"Ms. Yali's overall beauty aside," Beifong interrupted, "can we get on with the rest of your deductions?"

Without skipping a beat, Asami moved on. "Ms. Yali is also a virgin—Saikhan, before you ask me how I know without the aid of certain equipment, I want you to look at this girl and tell me if you think anyone's been intimate with her."

"That's a bit harsh, 'Sami," Bolin commented, although he didn't deny Asami's claim. Neither did the captain.

Asami actually looked a bit contrite as she muttered an apology under her breath and segued effortlessly into her next deduction. "The clothes are definitely not hers—they belong to her roommate." Asami held up her hand. "Look, just follow me into their bedroom." Bolin, Beifong, Saikhan and a few other officers trailed after the consulting detective as she marched to Xióng and Miki's bedroom, where their closets were both open. "This one belongs to Miki: her clothes reflect someone with a social life. This one belongs to Xióng—her clothes reflect someone who stays home and studies a lot. Do you want me to go on?"

"No, I think you've covered it," Beifong answered, her words drenched in acerbity.

"Excellent, usually you need a bit more to understand—" Asami's no doubt scathing reply was cut off by Officer Song entering the room.

Beifong, like Asami, looked disheartened at the interruption—especially an interruption by the same man whose incompetence had almost caused Hamato Yoon to slip through their fingers. "Officer, what do you want?"

"Chief, ma'am, Ms. Sato, Captain, Dr. Lieng," Officer Song stammered before clearing his throat and reverting to a more formal decorum. "Officer VinJi and I discovered a note in the trash that looks like it was written by Ms. Yali."

Asami practically shoved Bolin out of the way to get back into the kitchen, Beifong a few steps behind her. Saikhan graciously allowed Bolin to go in front of him, and the doctor walked quickly to the kitchen where he found his roommate reading aloud the note (already in an evidence bag) in a clear, strong voice: "'Miki, I'll be back as soon as possible, I've gone out on a date with M.'" She looked up, her expression puzzled. "The rest of it is smeared with blood."

"Definitely Xióng Yali's handwriting, it matches her notes," the chief said, sidling up next to the consulting detective. "Looks feminine, the letters are all loopy." She raised her eyebrows at Asami, who nodded in agreement. "I'll get the forensics team to dust it for prints, but then what? Is all of RCPD supposed to be on the lookout for every attractive college boy whose name begins with M?"

"Well, it's certainly a start," Asami commented. "Get on that, Chief Beifong, and get me Xióng's class schedule. I have a feeling we'll find this M character sooner rather than later."

"Excuse me, Asami, but last I checked, I was the one in charge of these police officers," Beifong snapped before turning to Captain Saikhan. "Captain, mail her Xióng's class schedule. Lieutenant Ai, get Sergeant Nyla and go ask around whom the college girls around the victim's age think are the most attractive." The chief actually released a faint shudder at her orders and Bolin couldn't blame her—they were certainly eccentric. "Expect results by the end of tomorrow."

That was a dismissal if there ever was one. In the time that it took Asami and Bolin to leave, walk down the sidewalk and whistle for the Breeze to come and pick them up, the consulting detective had already devised a plan to track down the M character that involved her homeless network and Miki Kiangsi. "And you, Bolin," she said once she hopped on the back of the panting man's rickshaw, "tomorrow I need you to—"

"I can't do anything tomorrow," he quickly replied, thankful that he'd remembered now and not tomorrow morning. "I have an appointment."

"An appointment." Asami looked like she didn't believe him. "The appointment for the position in the clinic downtown?"

"Yes, thank you for remembering." The rest of his words somersaulted down the back of his throat as the Breeze ran off with nary a sarcastic comment—Bolin made a mental note to ask the kid if he was feeling alright once they'd stopped. "I have an appointment at noon with someone named Dr. Yuma Liu," he shouted to Asami, "but after that I'm all yours."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Doctor," Asami said, both eyebrows raised as the rickshaw came to a steady stop. She paid the wheezing Breeze, patted him on the shoulder and turned back to Bolin. "So tonight we rest. Tomorrow we're going to catch Xióng Yali's murderer."

 _Drama queen,_  he thought fondly as he followed her inside.


	14. The Silver Hammer: Act One, Part 3

_In the time that they had been waiting in Colonel Jiang's quarters for Colonel Yanlin and Major Tran's teams to arrive, Riya had bitten her nails down to the quick and Yuhan and Hiroshu had done every version of arm wrestling that they could think of. Because he'd spent all of his time going over the finer details of Operation Storm Front, Chouko hadn't slept for the last two days and it was starting to show—the lieutenant's eyes were bloodshot and stubble was beginning to grow on his chin. Bolin didn't look much better because he'd spent the last two days been bartering for medical supplies with the other medics and arguing with HQ that yes, they did need the gauze, and no, the morphine was one hundred percent necessary._

" _Are they here yet, sir?" Hiroshu inquired, slapping away Yuhan's hand. Thank the Spirits because if Bolin had to hear 'one two three four, I declare a thumb war' one more time, he would go completely stark-raving crazy._

" _Nearly, 'Roshu," replied Chouko without looking up from his files. At this rate, coupled with the way Chouko had been squinting down at the paper, the lieutenant was going to need reading glasses. Wouldn't that be something? "Just be patient."_

" _How do you know that they're almost here?" Riya snapped, burying her face in her hands. "We've been waiting here for half an hour and I'm bored stiff. How do you know that they're on the way, Lieutenant?"_

" _Because," Chouko said, standing up and placing the files on Colonel Jiang's desk, "my hearing isn't impaired enough to miss the footsteps approaching."_

_Not one to question Chouko's gut instinct, Bolin, closely followed by Yuhan, Hiroshu and Riya, leapt to his feet and stood at attention just as Colonel Jiang entered the room, followed by a plethora of people wearing different uniforms—at least half of them were higher ranking military members than Chouko._

_At that moment, looking around at the captains and majors and colonels, Bolin felt very much out of his league. Judging by the fact that Riya and Yuhan's jaws were dangling and Hiroshu's eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets, the rest of the unit didn't look very sure of themselves either._

_Luckily, Chouko was much more confident than all of them, and he stepped forward. "First Lieutenant Kai Chouko," he said with a quick salute. Then, with a nod back at Bolin and the others, "this is Unit Seven-Oh-Seven, Third Battalion. From left to right—my second, Second Lieutenant Bolin Lieng, our Hawkeye Snipers PFC Riya Sami and Sergeant Hiroshu Niko, and our BAR man, Corporal Shen Yuhan."_

_The crowd of people parted to reveal a tall, thin, grinning man in his late thirties that for some reason wore a cowboy hat along with his uniform. "At ease, Lieutenant," he said, waving Chouko's salute away like a bad odor. Bolin noted the fake drawl that the man spoke with was an amalgamation of every cowboy in every Western serial that he had ever heard, meaning that the man had to be— "Major Jinho Tran, Unit Two-Six-Two, Seventh Battalion. My second, Second Lieutenant Enna Cho," the redheaded woman standing next to Tran waved, "our Hawkeye Sniper Sergeant Major Ren Siku," a young man around Hiroshu's age nodded stoically, "Lance Corporal Han Nguyen," a young man with a buzz cut and bright blue eyes grinned at them, "and Staff Sergeant Li Jin."_

" _Actually," corrected Staff Sergeant Li Jin, who was a pretty young woman with green eyes and brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, "if y'all don't want to call me Li Jin, you can also call me Babycakes."_

_Hiroshu looked ready to take her up on that offer and more, but Riya elbowed him in the ribs before Bolin could. Good girl._

_Before one of the members of Unit Seven-Oh-Seven could do anything potentially embarrassing, an older woman with tan skin, sun bleached hair, freckles and brown eyes stepped forward. "Colonel Kiko Yanlin, Howling Commandos, Tenth Battalion," she greeted, sounding a bit detached as she shook Chouko's hand—the lieutenant in question looked ready to fall over, not that Bolin could blame him. "My second in command, Lieutenant Colonel Fei Nianzhu," an older man with dark skin, messy hair and green eyes grinned at them, "Major HM Minzhe—don't ask what it stands for, none of us know—"_

" _Like I told you sooner, Colonel, it stands for Howling Mad," the major said, rolling his eyes. He looked like a flyboy—crazy eyes, windswept brown hair, tattoo of a bird visible on his collarbone—and Bolin couldn't help but wondering how he'd earned the nickname of Howling Mad._

" _Next to the major is Captain Chin Ho Khang," said the colonel, obviously used to dealing with Major Minzhe. Captain Khang looked relatively normal, although at least six inches shorter than everyone else in the room, including Riya. "And next to Captain Khang is our Hawkeye Sniper, Captain Zhuo Zhensheng. PFC Sami, Sergeant Niko, and Sergeant Major Siku, you may recognize him as your trainer as well as the co-founder of the program."_

" _Holy fuck," Hiroshu murmured. Bolin echoed that sentiment a thousand times over. Were they seriously expected to work with these people? Fucking hell, the lowest ranking member of Colonel Yanlin's unit was still higher up than Chouko._

_Bolin stepped up beside his commanding officer, which earned him a quicksilver grin. "Colonel Yanlin, Major Tran." The doctor saluted them both, and when they gestured him to remain at ease, he said, "I'm Second Lieutenant Lieng, MD. Who in your units is your medic?"_

_Major Tran pointed at Babycakes, while Colonel Yanlin winced and revealed that her medic had been KIA a few days prior and they hadn't acquired a replacement yet._

_Bolin held out his hand for Babycakes to shake, which she did—and he wasn't surprised to see that her handshake was nearly as strong as his. "Sergeant Jin, I look forward to working with you. Care to compare supplies tonight?"_

_She confirmed this, and for the first time during the meet and greet Colonel Jiang cleared his throat, silencing the room effectively. "Colonel Yanlin, Major Tran, and Lieutenant Chouko," he said, "you have already been briefed on the mission in depth. Have you enlightened your units on exactly what is going on?"_

_Chouko, Major Tran and Colonel Yanlin nodded._

" _Very well," said Colonel Jiang. "I'll show Unit Two-Six-Two and the Howling Commandos to their quarters—Lieutenant Chouko, I'd like to see you here at nineteen-hundred. You will all be leaving for Fort Bosco once President Raiko gets here in three days." He peered over the top of his half-moon glasses at the three units, each one equally as nervous as the next. Bolin felt the urge to start biting his nails like Riya just from being under the colonel's intense scrutiny. "Dismissed, everyone."_

Bolin hoped that Dr. Liu couldn't tell how sweaty his hands were. She'd been looking over his application for the last five minutes, and surely it didn't take someone that long to finish it. Was it because he wasn't qualified enough and she was trying to figure out how to give it to him straight? "So, ah." Not the best opening, but it did stop Dr. Liu from reading over his career highlights for the third time. "Any—any good?"

"Doctor Lieng," Dr. Liu said, setting down his résumé on the desk. She looked a bit flustered, but Bolin supposed that being slightly frazzled all the time was just one of the occupational hazards of working at the clinic. "Well—you know that this job is just ordinary, dull work, right? You won't exactly be dealing with—well, a lot of excitement, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Dull is fine," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Avoiding eye contact with the woman in front of him, he developed a fascination with the potted plant in the corner. "Dull works for me. I, uh, I could always use the—ah, the money." He paused. "Am I not the right man for the job? If you look at my application—"

"It's not that, Dr. Lieng, it's just that you're, um…" Two spots of red appeared on her cheeks. "W-well, you're a bit over-qualified for the position."

"Oh." Now Dr. Liu wasn't the only one blushing. "Uh, like I said earlier, ordinary work would be fine. I don't care that I'm over-qualified, it's—if you're willing to have me, I'd like to have this job. If you're willing to have me. Wait, I said that already. Shit. Sorry—I tend to ramble a bit when I'm nervous." He had no idea why his brain didn't come with a built-in filter to tell him when he was acting so stupid that he really needed to shut the hell up. Perhaps the amount of alcohol that he'd drank over the last ten years had dulled it. "Sorry."

"It's, uh, alright." She looked down at his form again, and this time when she spoke it was very quiet. "It says here that you were a soldier."

"Yes.  _And_ a doctor." Tying both of his careers together made it seem as though one of his identities was dependent on the other. As if by saying since he was a former soldier, he was a former doctor as well. As if his ten years' worth of medical knowledge had been left behind in the Si Wong Desert with Chouko and Kimiri and everyone he'd ever lost. As if Doctor Lieng didn't exist without Second Lieutenant Lieng.

By now it was simple—everyone knew that Bolin was a doctor, most knew he had been a soldier, and almost no one could separate the two.

He hadn't expected Dr. Liu to be any different.

Dr. Liu, aptly chastened, looked back down at the résumé before locking eyes with Bolin, her brown on his green. "Anything else you can do?" To his surprise, he detected a note of humor in her voice, and he made sure to respond in the same vein when he said, "When I was a kid, I taught my pet fire ferret a bunch of circus tricks."

Dr. Liu giggled, and he couldn't help but think that he'd like to hear her do so more often. "Well, then," she said, standing up and holding her hand out for Bolin to shake, "I look forward to you joining us here, Dr. Lieng. You'll start this weekend at nine o'clock sharp. Don't be late."

Bolin grinned, showing off perfect teeth as he shook Dr. Liu's hand, her previous faux pa forgotten. "Thanks," he said. "I'll see you this weekend, Dr. Liu."

* * *

He'd barely stepped outside the clinic doors before he was nearly run over by the Breeze's rickshaw, and he had to throw himself to the ground to avoid having a fatal accident. Barely holding back a curse word, he watched as Asami leapt down from her seat and helped him to his feet. "So," she asked, "how did it go?"

"We've been waitin' here for like half an hour, Doc," the Breeze chimed in, and Asami shot him a death glare. He hastily rescinded his statement by quickly saying, "I mean us, uh, that is to say, Ms. Sato and I, we're—"

"Watch your syllables there, Breeze," Bolin warned the younger man, barely holding back his laughter. The rickshaw operator's nonsensical rambling took him back to the time when Raia and Takumi had dyed Hojo's dress uniform bright pink. Chouko had yelled at them for nearly fifteen minutes straight, during which the lance corporal and corporal looked as though they were going to faint, but then had grinned at them and had simply warned them that if they were going to do it again to make sure that they left no traces behind.

Spirits, he missed Chouko.

"Anyway," he said before he delved too deeply into his memories of his dead comrades in arms, "are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

Asami immediately began speaking, although Bolin was still pretty sure that if the consulting detective could shoot laser beams out of her eyes, the rickshaw operator would be lying in charred pieces on the ground. "You told me yesterday when the Breeze was driving us back to Baker Street that you would be available to help me search for the murderer of Xióng Yali after your interview was completed. You said when you left this morning at eleven forty-five that your meeting wouldn't take longer than fifteen minutes. Twelve-fifteen came and went and you still had not arrived back, so the Breeze took me here. He exaggerated on the amount of time we had spent waiting for you: by the time we arrived it was twelve-twenty, and right now it is twelve thirty-one."

Slightly stupefied, all Bolin was able to do was nod. "Well, ah, I'm available now. Did Chief Beifong drop off Ms. Yali's schedule?"

Asami pulled a laminated piece of paper out of the pocket of her trench coat and waved it around—the only words that Bolin managed to catch were 'chemistry', 'trigonometry', and 'semester one'. "Saikhan dropped it off right after you left. Lieutenant Ai and Sergeant Nyla's list of attractive people whose names start with M and that Xióng Yali could have interacted with is here."

"Great," said Bolin, hopping in the rickshaw a second before Asami did. "So where to now?"

"Now," Asami replied as the Breeze set off, "we are heading to the University of Republic City to cross-analyze the list of attractive men with Xióng's class schedule. You hear that, Breeze?"

Breeze gave no indication that he had heard Asami, but judging by the path that they were taking, they were on their way to the university.

"So," Asami said, reclining as much as was possible in a rickshaw going over seventy miles per hour, "how did your interview go?"

"It, ah, it was great," he answered somewhat absentmindedly. "She's great."

Asami's brows furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"The job," he hastily corrected.

"No. You said she."

"I meant…I meant 'it'."

Asami looked suspicious, but he didn't exactly want to talk about his possible crush on Dr. Yuma Liu, and he hoped that she would take the hint. Luckily, the short while that they had lived together had taught her a thing or two, so she didn't say anything about it. "Right," she finally said once they pulled up to campus. "Breeze, you can come and collect us in a few hours. I daresay we won't be here long."

The Breeze, wheezing too hard to speak, leaned over and threw up on the pavement, barely missing the high heels of an eighteen year old girl, who squealed and looked willing to smack the rickshaw operator across the face. Thankfully, she settled for an anguished huff and stomped away. Once she left, the Breeze pulled himself together enough to give Asami a shaky thumbs up sign.

"The list contains the following," said Asami, deftly sidestepping the pool of vomit on the sidewalk. "Marek Li, Min Chiu, Miura Lau-Yen, Matsumoto Wen, Mizushima Xiaoping, Mukai Hojo—"

"Wait, what?" Bolin nearly tripped over the sidewalk at the revelation of that last name. "Did you say Mukai Hojo?"

"Yes." Asami evidently thought that Bolin had taken leave of his senses. "Do you know him?"

"No. I served with his brother, Wong." Sweet Spirits, what were the odds of this? "Hojo—ah, that is to say Wong Hojo—took Yuhan's place after Yuhan died. He was, well, pardon my language, but he was a prissy Mama's boy that couldn't believe that someone of his standards had been drafted. He hated the war more than all of us put together—couldn't shoot for shit either. Eventually he couldn't handle it anymore. He went AWOL. When Takumi, Chouko and I found him we brought him to HQ and he got a Section Eight." But now he had to interview Hojo's younger brother, a possible suspect in the murder of Xióng Yali. What had his life come to? "Uh, who else is on the list?"

"Masaki Hyuk, Mifune Yoo, Matsuda Byung-hun, Masahiro Jong-suk, Masaki Ji-woo and Maikesiwei Chenguanxi," Asami recited. "All of them have interacted with Ms. Yali at one point or another and, according to the people in her classes, are hotter than a ghost pepper."

Bolin made a noise that was half a snicker and half a snort, and Asami rolled her eyes fondly at him. "Well," he said. "C'mon, then."

* * *

Four hours later, they had managed to track down nearly every boy on the list with the exception of Min Chiu, Maikesiwei Chenguanxi, and Mukai Hojo. Asami had slammed the door in three of the boys' faces, proclaiming two as gay and one as asexual. Bolin hadn't even bothered to protest Asami's deduction, seeing as she'd figured out why Hamato Yoon had targeted TongXing Li. Matsuda, Masaki Ji-woo, Masaki Hyuk, and Mifune all had alibis. Masahiro had actually been one of the boys out dancing with Miki Kiangsi, Xióng's roommate. Mizushima was in the infirmary with alcohol poisoning after a night out with his sorority buddies, as was Miura.

Standing in front of Mukai Hojo's dorm door, Bolin felt uncharacteristically nervous. Behind the door was the younger brother of the man that he would rather never see again for the remainder of his life. Not to mention that he was pretty sure that being an asshole ran in the family. "Sweet Spirits," he muttered.

Asami stretched her hand out and knocked three times on the door. Before Bolin could beat a hasty retreat down the hall, Mukai Hojo opened the door, and sweet fucking Spirits, he was a damn replica of his deadbeat older brother. "Yeah?" He even sounded the same, and he eyed Asami the way one would eye a choice cut. "Hey there, doll. Can I help you?"

"Yes, although I'm sure that we have vastly different definitions of help," Asami replied coolly. "Mr. Hojo, my name is Asami Sato, and this is my colleague, Dr. Bolin Lieng."

Mukai's eyes widened in recognition, and the next thing Bolin knew he was being shoved against the hallway wall, Mukai's hands around his throat. But Bolin had ten years of military experience on the man, and he elbowed Hojo's brother in the gut before tackling and pinning him to the rug.

"You son of a bitch," Mukai growled.

"That's Second Lieutenant Son of a Bitch to you," Bolin countered, not easing up on his grip. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Asami brandishing her high heeled shoe like a weapon but he didn't reprimand or laugh at her for it.

Mukai was adamant. "I don't care what the fuck you call yourself, you're the reason Wong got a fucking Section Eight. Because of you—"

"I didn't do anything." Bolin was ready to kill this kid and only his morals and the fact that Asami was right behind him prevented him from acting out his fantasy. "Wanna know the reason your precious Wong XinFei Hojo III got a Section Eight? Because he was a deadbeat that didn't want to do his job and ended up going AWOL like the scaredy-cat he was."

Mukai spat in his face, but it was his next words that really set Bolin over the edge: "On the contrary,  _Doc_ ," he snarled, "I think the fault rests solely on the shoulders of your commanding officer. Lieutenant Kai Chouko was a Spirits-damned candy-assed coward and because of him my brother got a Section Eight."

Oh,  _hell_  no.

He did not—he did not just fucking go there.

No one insulted Chouko.

_No one._

So it was without any regrets that he punched Mukai Hojo as hard as he could in the face.

Still brandishing her high heel like a dagger while Mukai Hojo cursed violently through a possibly broken nose, Asami asked, "Did you ever ask Xióng Yali on a date, Mr. Hojo?"

"That bitch?" His voice had a nasal quality to it now. "Why the fuck would I ask her out? I mean, have you  _seen_  her? If you look up 'prude' in the dictionary you'll find her picture there."

"Thank you, Mr. Hojo." Her words were drenched in acerbity and disgust. "Bolin, let's go." When Bolin didn't move, she grabbed his shoulder with her free hand and shook it. "Lieutenant Lieng. Move it, soldier."

Years of military experience had taught him never to refuse a direct order, so even though he wanted to go back and punch Mukai until every bone in his body was broken because that little shit had disrespected his commanding officer and best friend, he got up and followed Asami out of the dorms and onto the main campus plaza.

* * *

"He disrespected Chouko, Asami."

"I know, Bolin."

"He—Chouko was a good man. The best man. My best friend." His vision blurred with tears and he wiped them hastily to the side, not wanting Asami to see him cry. "He wasn't a coward.  _Hojo_  was the coward."

"I'm well aware of this even though I've never met the Hojo you speak of or Lieutenant Chouko." Asami hesitated and put a hand on Bolin's shoulder. "Doc—Bolin. I know that Hojo was, ah, an asshole to you. It's—we need to focus on the case."

The case. He needed to focus on the case. He needed to help Asami find who had murdered Xióng Yali. Murdering Mukai Hojo could wait.

"Right." He locked eyes with his roommate, taking a deep breath to calm himself down fully. "The case."

And without another word on the subject, he followed Asami back into the building.


	15. The Silver Hammer: Act Two, Part 1

Malisu Laoshi had taught Advanced Trigonometry at Republic City University for over twenty years. During this time she'd experienced every type of student possible—sportos, motorheads, geeks, sluts, prudes, bloods, burnouts, dweebies, dickheads, hippies, etcetera. Xióng Yali hadn't really fallen into any of those categories: she was a smart, shy young lady that just wasn't social yet. She'd blossom with time, Malisu was sure. By the end of the year someone would ask her on a date, and she'd leave Republic City University with much more confidence than she had walking in.

Unfortunately, she'd heard this morning from the police officers talking to the faculty that Xióng Yali had been murdered last night, and it nearly killed her from the inside.  _That poor girl_ , she kept thinking.  _That poor, poor girl. And the worst part is that she doesn't really have anyone to mourn her._

"Good morning, class," she declared as she walked into the classroom, noting that only a few people actually bothered to reply. After taking roll-call of the nine—no, eight now—people in the class, she said, "Now, I'm sure that you've all been told of the tragic events that recently happened on campus."

Ahnah and Tzu Ji exchanged bewildered glances with each other. Tsonga, Zhao and Tikka all looked confused. Haruhi and Kiyi were too busy making out to notice that she'd spoken. Maikesiwei leaned forward at his desk. "No ma'am," he said. "What happened?"

"Your classmate Xióng Yali was found dead in her dorm room this morning." Ahnah and Tsonga gasped. Everyone else looked too surprised to make a noise—Maikesiwei's expression was blank. "Her murderer has not yet been found, but the Chief of Police has let me know that her detectives will be patrolling campus for the next few days to find who did it. If any of you have any knowledge regarding what happened to Xióng, go to the police immediately." Malisu sighed. "Now, back to trigonometry. Everyone take out your homework…"

Halfway through an explanation about a question on the homework which Kiyi had had trouble on Malisu couldn't help but get irritated at Maikesiwei. Usually he paid attention and did his work well, but now he was chatting away with Zhao about nothing in particular. "Mr. Chenguanxi, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

"I was just telling Zhao a joke, ma'am."

"Then please enlighten the rest of us on what was so funny."

Maikesiwei grinned and exchanged a conspiratorial look with Tikka, who winked at him. "I asked Zhao what the difference between a ginger kid and trigonometry was. He didn't know, so I told him that one of them can 'tan'."

Ahnah, Tikka, Zhao, Kiyi and Haruhi snickered, but the rest of the class didn't seem so enthused. Neither did Malisu, a redhead herself. "Please focus on the lesson Maikesiwei, and save your jokes for after class."

"In the eyes of Mrs. Laoshi," Maikesiwei whispered to Zhao, "I'm sure these trigonometry jokes are a sin."

Malisu ignored him. "Kiyi, do you understand why the answer is f prime now?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Laoshi, I get it."

Maikesiwei snickered. "Hey, Zhao," he said to the boy sitting next to him, not even bothering to keep his voice down. "I derived your mom last night." He paused, everyone waiting for the punchline. "It was f prime."

"Maikesiwei!" Malisu snapped, unable to take it anymore. Wanting to avoid an unpleasant scene, she swallowed her anger at being interrupted for a third time and said, "Be quiet and see me after class. We need to discuss your apparent lack of an ability to pay attention."

Maikesiwei shot her a grin and a snappy salute. "Yes ma'am."

After class was dismissed forty-five minutes later (something she was grateful for, mainly because Kiyi had seemed just to ask stupid questions today on purpose), she reminded him to stay back. "Maikesiwei," she said, "I know this is going to seem really juvenile," then again, so were his jokes, "but I want to you to take out a piece of paper. On it, I want you to write fifty times, 'I must not be so disrespectful in class.' When you're done with that, you can go to your next class."

Maikesiwei scowled and his fists clenched underneath his desk. She turned away from him, erasing the complicated equations from the board. Professor Ju was here next, teaching Advanced Literature, she thought. Either that or it was Accelerated Literature. She couldn't recall at the moment.

She turned around to see if Maikesiwei was actually working like she'd told him too and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw that he was no longer there. Where the hell had he gone?  _I swear to Raava if he left he has another thing coming..._

Before she could think about it further, something slammed into the back of her head with the force of a sledgehammer. Perhaps that had even been what it was, she thought as she fell to her knees with a thud. She had lost all control of her limbs and couldn't scream, yet she could feel the blood beginning to trickle through her hair and drip down her neck. She heard someone yell but wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not.

She was hit in the head again by the same blunt object even harder than before, and then Malisu Laoshi's world went dark.

* * *

_Yuhan exploded in peals of laughter, throwing an arm over Riya's shoulder. "No, no, no," he said quickly, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes while Riya rolled her eyes affectionately at him. "Nah, 'Roshu, tell them about the thing with the bomb. The thing with Lieutenant Chouko and the bomb."_

_Hiroshu exchanged a glance with Chouko, who looked amused. "Go on, Sergeant," said the lieutenant, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back on his barstool with a fresh mug of beer in hand. "I'm eager to hear your retelling of the dramatic events that really weren't so dramatic at all."_

_They'd been exchanging stories about their commanding officers for over two hours. The Club, the only bar on base, had been closed by Colonel Jiang to anyone that wasn't a bartender or a member of the Howling Commandos, Unit Two-Six-Two, and Unit Seven-Oh-Seven. It'd been the colonel's wishes for the teams to get to know each other better so when Raiko arrived they would be operating like a well-oiled machine. Bolin agreed with his CO, and after all, what better way was there to get to know someone with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol?_

_Hiroshu glanced over at the Howling Commandos and Unit Two-Six-Two, all of whom were leaning forward in their chairs with eager expressions on their faces, looking like kindergarteners at story time. "Well," the sergeant began, setting his glass of scotch aside, "we had air support for some fucking thing a while ago, like—what was it, two months ago?" At Riya's nod, he continued. "Lieutenant Chouko called the strike in for 'bout a quarter of a mile west of us. Intel's usually accurate-ish when it comes to these things so we aren't too worried. When the bomb drops, it hits the fucking roof of the building next to us, and the walls blow out and bricks and debris and all that shit are raining down on us. Yuhan gets whacked in the back of the head pretty hard but hey, he's got a thick skull, so none of us were worried." Bolin snorted, knowing that was correct. Even Riya hadn't fawned over him like they'd all expected. "And the rest of us, well, we're like, 'fucking monkeyfeathers these fuckers just_ bombed _us'—"_

_Hiroshu was laughing too hard to keep talking, so Riya took over. "—and then Lieutenant Chouko gets on the radio and is like, 'Okay, gents, now try bombing our fucking position on the off chance you hit the N-double-F's by accident instead."_

_Riya collapsed sideways against Yuhan as half the people in the bar went into fresh fits of laughter—Major Tran and Babycakes in particular looked ready to piss themselves. Chouko blushed red enough to rival the flags of the Fire Nation, but he still snickered._

" _Hey, hang on," Enna said, giggling into her glass of wine, "Spirits fuck, guys, do y'all remember that thing with Major Tran and the BZ-650?"_

" _Ah, Raava, that was priceless," Nguyen chortled, pounding Enna on the back. "Babycakes, c'mon, tell 'em."_

" _Well, don't keep us hanging," Minzhe prompted after a few seconds. "Tell us what he did!"_

" _Us and this unit—fuck, what were they? Unit One-Two-Eight, right sir?" Major Tran had his face buried in his hands so Babycakes didn't receive an answer. She went on anyways. "Them and us are pinned in an alleyway and their BZ-650's parked at the end of the street, right? The New Freedom Fighters are climbing up on it to use the machine gun on it to blow us to kingdom come and back, but Major Tran isn't having any of it, so he throws a fucking grenade at 'em and blows the whole damn thing up. And that unit's CO is like, 'that's our fucking ride, idiot, you just blew up our ride, you're gonna have to pay for that!_ '  _And Major Tran is like, 'bill me, you motherfuckers, I just saved your lives.'"_

" _I'm disappointed in you, Staff Sergeant Jin." Major Tran managed to sound sagacious while Enna was leaning on his shoulder sobbing with laughter. "What I said was, 'you can bill us for the BZ-650 but we'll give y'all the grenade for free.'"_

" _What about you, Colonel Yanlin?" Lieutenant Colonel Nianzhu inquired once everyone's laughter had died down. He playfully elbowed the older woman, who looked like she was the only sober one in the room. Bolin bet that Colonel Jiang had asked her to be their chaperone—after all, the last time Yuhan had gotten drunk he'd ended up trying to take a swim in the showers and had nearly flooded the base. "Any interesting stories to tell?"_

" _Yeah, Colonel!" Minzhe chimed in. "Tell the Lieu and Major's teams here how come you're called 'Hot Lips'!" If Colonel Yanlin could shoot lasers out of her eyes, Minzhe would have been sliced in half. The flyboy gulped. "Okay, fine, I'll tell it."_

" _Major Minzhe," Yanlin growled. "Don't you dare."_

" _Sorry, ma'am, but I'm pretty sure all of the grunts here," Riya especially looked affronted at the term that hinted she was worth less than the officers, "need to hear it. S'gotta be like a rite of passage for them."_

_Much to Bolin's surprise, the colonel grinned and waved him on. Maybe she wasn't so sober after all. Either that or the story had been rehashed so many times that her protests had been faked. He'd have to ask her later. "Fine. Go on, Major."_

_Minzhe grinned, revealing perfect teeth. "Back when Colonel Yanlin was a major, she worked at a MASH camp. For those of you who don't know, that's a mobile army surgical hospital. Back in the Northern Water Tribe, the generals had 'em everywhere. Not the point though. Colonel Yanlin was head nurse over there, and she wasn't particularly pleasant to the people she worked with." Yanlin shrugged, as if to say she was past it now. "She was having an affair with a guy named Tanshuai Shaoshang, right Colonel?" After she nodded, he went on. "Shaoshang was one of the doctors there; pretty incompetent, but not the point. While she was having sex with him, she growled, 'Kiss my hot lips!' and well, it stuck."_

" _But how did the others in your camp find this out?" Riya asked Yanlin, Babycakes nodding along. "Surely you didn't just go 'round the camp and tell everyone that you wanted to go by Hot Lips now, Colonel Yanlin."_

" _No, PFC Sami, you're most correct. Major Minzhe forgot to add the most dramatic part of the story." Captain Zhensheng slid Minzhe's drink away from him and passed it to Captain Khang, who drank it in two gulps. "These two jokers, this guy who went by Yingyan and another guy who went by Bushou, planted the PA microphone under my cot so it would broadcast all of the, well, all of the graphic details of my rendezvous with Tanshuai over the camp speakers. The next day I was christened Hot Lips. Fifteen years and it hasn't gone away."_

_Yuhan snickered. "Yeah, Colonel Yanlin, hate to tell you, but when I was at basic they made sure to tell me all about this."_

" _Well, Corporal, I've certainly come to terms with it," Colonel Yanlin replied, taking a dainty sip of beer. "For example, the day after Tanshuai and my rendezvous had been made public; Yingyan and Bushou had an argument about whether or not I was a natural blonde." Yanlin ran her fingers through the gray streaks in her obvious natural blonde hair, much to the laughter of everyone else. "So they used counterweights to raise the flap on the shower tent, exposing me naked to the entire camp."_

" _That seems kind of harsh," Enna remarked. "What did you do to them, Colonel?"_

" _I stormed right into my commanding officer's tent—at the time he was in bed with his mistress, a lovely young lady named, believe it or not, Kiko—and I threatened to resign my commission if he didn't turn in Yingyan and Bushou over to the MPs."_

" _What did your CO do?"_

" _Much to my surprise, Lieutenant Chouko, my CO did nothing. I left tearfully, in total defeat." Yanlin shrugged. "Trust me, I got them back, though. I even dumped Tanshuai and got into a relationship with Bushou, if you can believe it."_

" _That can't possibly be the most badass thing you've ever done, Colonel," Siku complained. He'd been deep in conversation about the Hawkeye Snipers program with Captains Khang and Zhensheng, but had apparently decided to rejoin the competition of badassery. Bolin wasn't even sure if that was a word or not and didn't care. No matter what stories Major Tran and Colonel Yanlin dredged up, he'd always think that Chouko was the best commanding officer ever. "You're the CO of the Howling Commandos."_

" _There was this one time," said Captain Zhensheng, getting everyone's attention immediately, "when Colonel Yanlin and the rest of us were Fort Bosco, right? And there's a regular barrier on the road, and then there's about three hundred feet of road with walls on either side, and there's a blast barrier at the end of that. This SUV just ran through the regular barrier, and Colonel Yanlin, Lieutenant Colonel Nianzhu, Major Minzhe and I—this was before Chin Ho joined us, mind you—were inside the blast barrier and Colonel Yanlin yells at us to get out, and she just starts shooting straight at the SUV, doesn't run, doesn't even back up, just keeps pumping away at that thing while we fucking dived over the barrier."_

" _Spirits," Bolin said, wide-eyed as Riya and Enna. "What happened?"_

" _She shot the driver in the head, and then shot out one front tire and the SUV went into the wall," Minzhe explained, taking over from Zhensheng. "Stone cold, too. It was a thing of beauty."_

" _Was she okay?" Enna asked._

" _Oh, yeah, she turned around and walked out from the barrier and s'like, 'I think I've got grit in my eye.' She's fucking insane, but still." Minzhe grinned, elbowing his CO. "We love her."_

" _Fuck yeah," Khang echoed, and Yanlin blushed._

_During the next five hours, Enna engaged Khang in a drinking contest and won, Yuhan picked a squealing Riya up and announced to the whole bar that they would return momentarily (they never returned, but Yuhan's grunts could be heard all the way from the next room even with the door locked so everyone knew exactly what they were doing), Zhensheng and Hiroshu passed out at the counter, Minzhe took a piss in a potted plant in plain view of everyone and then sang karaoke with Nguyen, and Colonel Yanlin Major Tran and Chouko went to go report to Colonel Jiang that all of them would be taking a day off tomorrow to recover from their hangovers, leaving Babycakes and Bolin as the only semi-sober ones left._

" _So what made you join the army, Babycakes?" Bolin asked, rubbing his eyes. Spirits, he would definitely be regretting this in the morning._

" _My mom's nagging, mostly," she revealed with a slightly sheepish smile. She hiccupped, rubbing her mouth on her sleeve. "I had bad grades in high school—too busy drinking and shoplifting with my friends. I didn't want to go to college even if I could. Ma said that if I didn't find something to do, I'd have to carry on the family business with her." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I told her I was looking for a job when I was really not and after a while I was like, fuck it, I need to do something. Except where do you go with shitty grades and ten yuans in your pocket?"_

" _The_  Uuuuuuuunited Foooooorces! _" Bolin replied, in an announcer's voice eerily reminiscent of Shiro Shinobi's._

_Babycakes snickered. "Yeah. And then on my first day in, this guy approaches me in a bar and starts saying all of these things about how he wanted to put his dick in my ass, like 'C'mon, Babycakes, just lemme give you a wild night.'"_

" _What'd you do?"_

" _I broke his nose. Major Tran—used to be Captain Tran at the time, actually, and well…he came to my rescue. It's all a blur but he said that I kept on shouting the whole time something like, 'Don't mess with Babycakes, mofo' and it stuck. Never liked the nickname much but I think I'll be stuck with it until the day I die." She sighed. "But yeah, that's me. What about you? I read up on your unit about why you all joined, but how did you meet Chouko? Was he always your CO?"_

_Bolin was still reeling at the fact that the reasons of why he enlisted were written in a file along with the fact that Babycakes had read up on him and the unit, so his answer came a bit slowly. "I met Chouko when I was a corporal and he was a sergeant. He and I both served in the Sixth Battalion under Captain Tirril, and it was all fun. I was with him when he met his girlfriend, Penga—remind me to tell you about that later, that's a really good story. Still. I eventually got shunted because I had to finish my medical degree—which I got—and that should've gotten me a promotion to Captain, but I didn't want to go through officer's school. So for a while I was the only doctor with the title of Sergeant, and then I got invited to join a new unit in the Third Battalion that Chouko was leading, 'cept Chouko wrote me and said that I had to get a promotion otherwise Colonel Jiang hire someone from the Fifth Battalion to take my place. So I took a quick course, got a rec from the colonel and Chouko and here I am. Got promoted to Second Lieutenant right before Chouko and I assembled Unit Seven-Oh-Seven."_

" _I'm a career soldier too." Babycakes yawned. "Think you'll do it forever?"_

" _Who knows?" Bolin took one last swig of beer. "Probably." He paused. "May I escort you back to our quarters, Staff Sergeant Jin?"_

_She laughed and looped her arm through his, her smile belaying the tiredness in her eyes. "Lead on, Second Lieutenant Lieng."_

Bolin was glad that the remaining two interviews he and Asami had to do weren't in the same wing as the one Mukai Hojo resided in. He had a feeling that if he saw Hojo's brother again he'd actually try to kill him for disrespecting Chouko and not just break his nose. Asami was watching him like he'd lost his mind, and for good reason—he could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he'd had an actual violent outburst like he had a few minutes ago. "So who do we have left to interview?"

"Maikesiwei Chenguanxi and Min Chiu," was Asami's slightly distracted response. "Who would you like to interview first?"

"The first one," Bolin suggested after a moment of thought. "Purely for the sake of alphabetical order." He was pleased to see that that had gotten a response from her. "Where do you think he is?"

"No idea." Asami reached out and snagged a girl that looked no more than eighteen years old. Bolin felt old just looking at her. "Do you know where I can find Maikesiwei Chenguanxi?"

The girl's brows furrowed at Asami's abruptness. "…Maikesiwei, Maikesiwei…." And then her eyes lit up in recognition. "Yeah, I do! My brother's girlfriend's sister's cousin's date to homecoming Zhao has class with him right now. Maikesiwei has Advanced Trig right now on the other side of this building."

Asami nodded her appreciation for the girl's weird explanation, grabbed Bolin's hand and ran, the doctor barely managing to say thank you to the girl before following Asami down the hallway of crowded students. He managed to quickly reorient himself and called down to his friend, "Do you even know which classroom it is?"

"Of course I do," she replied, sounding offended as she slowed down and let him catch up to her. "I used to take classes here. I took AP Calculus and it was in the same wing as Advanced Trig. Don't underestimate me, Doctor."

Bolin held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Pardon me, Ms. Sato. Didn't mean to underestimate you at all, just wanted to make sure you knew where you were going. Wouldn't want us to end up in Human Resources."

Asami grinned at that. "I have to concur. Human Resources was terrible when I went to school here and it's probably just as bad now."

They made their way to the math wing, where a crowd of students were hanging outside the classrooms, waiting for the bell. Bolin suddenly remembered when he'd taken classes here as well.  _Was I ever really as young as them?_  he wondered, looking around at the bright young faces of the students.  _Wait. Skoochy teaches here now! I wonder if I can convince Asami to make a detour on our way out. The Breeze will definitely appreciate us being late—he's definitely overworking himself if he throws up every time he drops us off somewhere._

Asami's elbow to his side immediately clued him back into the present. "Bolin," she hissed, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him back before he could go past the door. "Look."

Bolin looked around the door and saw a teacher writing something on the board while a teenager scowled at his paper, squishing something of a silvery color over and over in his hands. Eventually he got up—probably to ask a question. The doctor looked back over at his friend, curious why he was being forced to watch this. "Asami, why am I—"

Asami shoved past him and into the room just as the boy slammed the silvery object on top of his teacher's head, causing her to crumple to the floor. "Stay where you are!" she yelled.

Leering while making perfect eye contact with Asami, the boy slammed the hammer on the teacher's head again. This time, when she didn't get up, Bolin was positive that she was dead. Bile rose in his throat but he swallowed it as he stepped into the room, getting ready to charge at the kid and hand him over to the police when the boy ran to the windowsill, opened it, and jumped out.

Asami, without a second of hesitation, leapt after him. Much to Bolin's relief, his friend and the murderer hadn't jumped down two stories to their deaths, they had landed on a fire escape. Looking back around at the stunned students, he told them, "Call the police right now," before going after Asami. Easily catching up with her, the two of them climbed up the fire escape and over the railing before coming to a gap between the two buildings.

Asami leapt across the gap to the next building, Bolin only a few steps behind her. As she leapt across the next gap, he skidded to a halt upon realizing that the gap might be too big for him to jump across. As if in sympathy, the traffic lights on the ground changed from the green 'it is safe to cross' sign to the red 'stop and wait' sign.

"Come on, Bolin, we're losing him!"

Bolin backed up a few paces and braced himself. As the traffic lights changed to 'safe to cross' again, he took a run-up and leapt the gap. Dropping down onto a walkway along the side of the building, they ran onward. On the ground, the boy continued his frantic run, shoving students out of the way and Bolin and Asami galloped down another metal staircase then ran to a ledge and dropped down into an alleyway before running onwards again. Asami grabbed his hand and pulled him down in the alleyway, turning right. "This way!"

They headed down more side streets and alleyways down 2nd Avenue and finally, just as they made it to Flying Boar Street Bolin caught a glimpse of the murderer and tackled him as though this was another game of earth soccer that he and the unit had played many a time on leave, both of them skidding for at least a foot on the sidewalk.

"Who the hell are you?" Bolin growled, the adrenaline finally catching up to him and making his words come out more breathy than he'd intended.

"Fuck you," the kid growled back.

Asami leaned over him, her fist an inch away from the kid's nose. "My companion already broke someone's nose less than twenty minutes ago. I can punch harder than him—and if I punch you in the right place you will need surgery; that I can promise you. So I'm only going to ask you once more time. What. Is. Your. Name?"

"Chenguanxi," the kid spat. "Maikesiwei Chenguanxi."

Just as he finished the sentence, two police officers that Bolin vaguely recognized came running up to them, followed by a crowd of students and teachers. "What's going on here?" the first one—whose name Bolin thought was VinJi or something like that—inquired, even though it was pretty obvious what was going on—they'd caught the murderer of Xióng Yali.

Asami got to her feet. "Officer VinJi," ha, he  _had_  been right, that made him feel good about himself, "I believe that it is plainly clear what is going on here. Dr. Lieng and I have caught you the murderer of Xióng Yali. Please take him into custody and handcuff him—not in that order. Oh, and he's a runner, you may want to chain his feet together as well."

"Alright, Ms. Sato," said the officer to VinJi's left—what was her name? Yuma? Meh, he could ask her later. "Anything else?"

Bolin didn't like the way that Maikesiwei was smirking. "Yeah," he said. "The kid's a metalbender. Give him wooden handcuffs."

Maikesiwei's smirk vanished like someone blowing out a candle. Asami and Bolin's intensified as the murderer was led away by VinJi and his partner, much to the surprise of the students that a murderer was actually among them. "Good observation back there," she said to him sotto voce. "I mean, I obviously noticed it as well, but still. Good job pointing it out."

Bolin mock-gasped. "Did you just give me a compliment? Oh my Spirits, Asami. You gave me a compliment. I'm so honored right now, oh my Spirits, I think I need a moment to gather my emotions…"

"Bolin?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."


	16. The Silver Hammer: Act Two, Part 2

_As was common for nights of drinking like the one they'd had, the memories faded but the hangover lingered. Bolin couldn't remember much of anything that had gone down except that it had ended with Babycakes in his bed the following morning and the bar being trashed. Yuhan and Riya had also slept together, but that had come as no surprise to anyone. Colonel Jiang had not been impressed with any of them, and had lectured them all for over an hour on 'proper army etiquette' that had only been interrupted when Minzhe lost control of his stomach and vomited all over the colonel's shoes. Fortunately, by the time Raiko came later that day, they'd recovered enough to greet the President of the United Republic properly and got all of their gear together for the mission._

_The ride to Fort Bosco had been long and the sun had beat down on their backs, but luckily the breeze from the jeeps kept them all sane. Raiko wasn't as stern and stiff as the newspapers and radio portrayed him, Bolin found out. He knew how to crack a joke, was extremely intelligent, and his skill at orchestrating peace talks had definitely come in handy. The New Freedom Fighters at Fort Bosco and the Misty Palms Oasis had been there as planned, and the peace talks had taken two days. Two days full of negotiation and standing around looking menacing and minding the jeeps. Bolin didn't mind, though. All three units had gotten closer since their wild night, himself and Babycakes especially so. He liked holding her hand at mealtimes, liked sharing cigarettes and kisses outside. It wouldn't last—eventually she and the others from Major Tran's unit would have to go back—but this was the first relationship that made him want to keep it going long distance._

_Either way, once Raiko had shaken the hands of the head New Freedom Fighters from Fort Bosco and the Misty Palms Oasis—Hotah Deng and Arana Jirra—and promised to send them contracts soon, they were back off to the base. The three jeeps, one after the other, set off across the desert. Each unit had their own jeep, and Raiko sat next to Bolin, which kind of thrilled him. He couldn't wait to write Mako and tell him that he'd gotten to meet the president._

_Just as Bolin was about to ask Chouko if he could borrow some paper and start writing the letter now, the jeep began to splutter._

_"What the hell?" Yuhan hit the steering wheel with one hand as the jeep started slowing down. Bolin looked around and saw that the other jeeps were having the same problem. Once the jeep came to a complete stop in the middle of the desert, there was no amount of begging from Yuhan that would coax it back to life. "Lieutenant Chouko, there's something wrong."_

_"I can see that, Corporal," Chouko deadpanned. He got out of the jeep, Riya, Hiroshu, Yuhan, Bolin, and Raiko climbing out after him. Yanlin and Minzhe and Major Tran were walking toward Chouko, and all three units met in the middle. "Major Tran, Colonel Yanlin, any idea what's going on?"_

_"Last I checked all of these jeeps had full tanks of gas," Tran said, scratching his chin. "And I last checked this morning."_

_Enna, who had stayed back and had wrenched off something on the back of the jeep, said, "I wouldn't be so sure. Something got tampered with. If there was any gas in here, it got drained out. I'd say the most any of these jeeps had when we left the summit was a quarter of a tank."_

_"We must've been riding on empty for the last ten miles," Zhensheng said. Kang, who stood next to him, cursed under his breath. "How'd this happen?"_

_"It doesn't matter how it happened," Yanlin said sternly. Everyone turned to look at her, even Raiko. "Right now we're too far from where we came from to make a fuss over who did what. Once we get back to base we can investigate. But at the moment, we all ought to grab what we can carry and start walking. It's going to be extra hot so I suggest we go stay at that village to get out of the sun." Sure enough, if Bolin squinted he could see a tiny village—probably occupied by sandbenders—in the distance, maybe two or three miles away. "Any problems with that?"_

_Salutes rippled through the air. "Excellent plan, Colonel," said Nianzhu. "Alright, let's go."_

_The trek was long and hard, and several times Bolin had to stop and help Hiroshu to his feet—the man had given all of his water to Riya and Enna and had started suffering from heatstroke—but it was overall uneventful. Chouko walked next to the president, making small talk about how this usually didn't happen. All three Hawkeye Snipers brought up the rear, guns at the ready, and Yanlin led the way._

_According to Siku's watch, they arrived at the village a little over an hour later. It appeared to be deserted—no people or animals were out and about, the windows all had their curtains drawn, and some of the buildings looked like they hadn't been touched in years._

_Yuhan took it upon himself to voice everyone's thoughts. "The hell is everyone?"_

_"We ought to do a search through the houses to make sure it's empty," Yanlin decided. "Or to see if there's anyone here who's hurt. Either or, afterwards I want a search team to find us a working communicator. Our radio barely has any juice left."_

_"I'll take a team toward one side, Colonel," Chouko said. "You can take one through the other."_

_"Works for me, Lieutenant. Minzhe, Nianzhu, Lieng, Kang, Cho, Siku, you're with me. Chouko, Tran, you've got the rest. Mr. President, you'll be with us. Any objections?"_

_Raiko shook his head. "No ma'am."_

_"Good." Yanlin handed Chouko a flare gun, and he took it like he was afraid it would blow up in his hands. "Send up a flare or a shout if you need us and we'll come running."_

_Hiroshu, Chouko, Babycakes, Tran, Zhensheng, Nguyen, Riya, and Yuhan set off for a few houses on the other side of the street. In a surprising turn of events, Yanlin let Minzhe take the lead. "I've got a real knack for finding things," Minzhe said to Siku when he asked why the major was ahead of Yanlin. "Colonel Yanlin recognizes that and lets me go ahead on things like this."_

_Bolin walked with Enna and Nianzhu, all three of them keeping an eye out for any trouble. The first house they searched revealed nothing but dust and abandoned furniture. Minzhe and Kang summoned fire to their hands and used the glow of the flames to light up the rooms that weren't exposed to sunlight. Raiko occasionally commented on the décor (no one could tell if it was out of a genuine interest or out of nerves) but otherwise the eight of them kept quiet._

_After about thirty minutes of silence, Bolin decided to speak up. "Ma'am, how much longer is this going to take? I feel like our time could be better spent fixing the radio and getting in contact with Colonel Jiang."_

_The group came to a halt. Yanlin fixed him with a glare so intense that it caused a bead of sweat to form over his upper lip. "As long as I say it should, 2_ _nd_ _Lieutenant. I don't want us to camp out in a place unless we're absolutely sure there's no threat posed to us."_

_"I doubt there's a threat posed to us in this little Podunk town," said Raiko. "Maybe just—"_

_"Mr. President, all due respect, but we'll keep going 'til I'm sure." Yanlin snapped her fingers and the group kept moving, leaving one house for another._

_This one was bigger, Bolin noticed, yet the amount of dust in here was less than all of the others. Even the furniture was still there, not looted or moved around. Clearly someone had been in here before, and it had been recent._

_"This feels like something out of a horror novel," Siku commented. The other members of the group murmured in agreement. Raiko looked nervous for the first time all day, and even Yanlin appeared concerned. "Any chance we could skip this one?"_

_"Pull it together, Siku, we're going to stay on track," Minzhe ordered, but Bolin saw him suppress a smile as he walked over to check the next room. Positioning the flame in his hand to find the best light in the dusty air. Turning back around to face them, his right foot stepped backward onto a creaky floorboard. Triggering the bomb that blew off his legs._

When the Breeze dropped them off at the precinct, Bolin had expected to enter the building with minimal fuss (well, from his end at least; Asami was more unpredictable and could have made a fuss if she felt like it). What he didn't expect was the crowds of photographers surrounding the steps who, apparently, were waiting for their arrival.

"Asami! Asami, over here!"

"Who'd you catch this time, Miss Sato?"

"Was it the guy who murdered that college student? Did he have the silver hammer?"

"I heard about the university professor getting killed, was she killed by the same kid?"

Asami walked straight through the crowd with her head held up high, Bolin only a few steps behind her. When he was younger he'd wanted to be famous and smile for the cameras all the time, but now he was glad that he'd reconsidered. The flashing lights and constant yelling for his attention was kind of annoying, and he kept his mouth shut. Once they entered the police station and had the doors closed behind them, Asami finally relaxed, shoulders slumping a little. "Spirits, I hate the press."

Bolin made a pitying noise. "Do they harass you and the cops a lot?"

"More than you'd think, Bolin. Six months ago, a reporter from the Republic City Chronicle camped outside Baker Street for a week straight trying to get me to talk to her about the latest string of murders in the slums…Mira Koneko, I believe her name was. I ended up taking the rooftops to the precinct for few days."

"Ah, so  _that's_  how you did that." Bolin nudged her shoulder playfully. "And here I was thinking you were an acrobat in your spare time."

"Don't be ridiculous. Those leotards wouldn't flatter me at all."

Bolin grinned—a joke and a compliment in less than twenty-four hours, who knew?—but before he could say anything further, Asami was already striding away toward Beifong and Saikhan, who'd just exited one of the interrogation rooms. He hurried toward the trio, nodding at Beifong and giving Saikhan a polite smile.

Asami didn't waste a second. "Did you get a chance to speak with Maikesiwei Chenguanxi?"

"Yes, and so far he's been giving us a fat load of nothing," Beifong said, grimacing. "He's claiming that he never knew Xióng Yali and wasn't the one who killed his teacher, what's-her-name, Laoshi. Says it was all a coincidence."

"That's a crock of shit," Bolin snapped. "Asami and I saw him kill her in broad daylight; he can't possibly think he can get out of this one."

"His lawyer should be arriving at any minute, and Spirits knows that he'll be the smarmiest bastard to walk this side of the city," Saikhan added, lip curling in disgust. Apparently the trend of cops hating lawyers was still around. "Did anyone else see Chenguanxi kill the teacher?"

"Just myself and Dr. Lieng." Asami appeared displeased that she even had to speak with Saikhan at all. "But considering his fingerprints are all over that murder weapon, he and his lawyer will have a hard time talking around that in court."

"No doubt about it," Beifong said grimly. "We've just got to get him to confess. A confession and knowledge of his motivation will end this before it even happens." To Asami, she said, "I suppose you'd like to take a crack at him, don't you."

"I can see how you made detective at such a young age," Asami deadpanned. Bolin pretended to cough in an effort to hide an amused smile. "But yes, I would. And I'd like Dr. Lieng to accompany me." She looked at Bolin as if to confirm that he'd be coming with her, and he nodded. "Do you have a file on Chenguanxi? Something that can provide us with his background information?"

Saikhan sneered at her. "Why? Can't you sniff out every bit of his life just by looking at him?"

"Unfortunately," Asami said evenly, "there are some things that can't be deduced. Such as how you're still employed by the RCPD."

"Children, behave," Beifong snapped, but her stern tone was negated by the slight twitch of her lips. Bolin had no qualms about subtlety and just laughed out loud. After shooting him a look that reminded him of Colonel Yanlin—memories that he did  _not_  need to think about right now—she turned back to a smirking Asami, said, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes with a file," and steered Saikhan away.

Asami looked at Bolin. "Shall we?"

"After you."

She entered the interrogation room first, where Maikesiwei Chenguanxi sat at a wooden table, still wearing wooden handcuffs. Bolin hadn't gotten a chance to get a good look at him at the university and used the time now to do so. He looked to be of Fire Nation descent, judging by his paler skin and dark spiky hair (rather like Mako's, actually), but he had light brown eyes instead of the typical amber ones. Tall, muscular. When he smirked at them, Bolin fought the urge to roll his eyes.  _That probably gets you all the ladies at school, kid, but it's not gonna work over here._

"So," Maikesiwei finally said, "to what do I owe the pleasure of getting interrogated by Republic City's consulting detective and her lackey?"

"Not to what, to whom. Thank Chief Beifong when you get a chance." Asami pulled up a chair and sat down across from Maikesiwei. Unsure of what to do, Bolin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I understand you've been trying to play the denial game but I know what I saw. Why did you kill your teacher?"

Another smirk. "What makes you think she was my teacher?"

"Your presence in her classroom and the fact that you don't seem like the type to kill complete strangers. Too impersonal for you. Plus students don't typically serve detention in the rooms of teachers they don't know." Was that what the teacher had written on the board? How did Asami notice all of that in the heat of the moment? "Answer the question."

"I didn't do it, doll."

"Denial won't do you any good when we've got your fingerprints," Asami said. Then, "Doll."

Bolin laughed. Maikesiwei's eyes swiveled over to him and he sneered. "And what words of wisdom does Asami Sato's lackey have to share?"

"Watch your mouth, kid," he said automatically, but his mind raced to come up with a question, any question that Asami wouldn't think was stupid. "How about you share your heritage with us?"  _Really, Lieng,_ that's _what you ask him? Idiot._ "You look a bit too much of a Fire Nation guy to be a metalbender."

"Excellent point, Doctor," Asami said. Bolin couldn't quite tell if she was being sarcastic or not and resolved to ask her later. Maikesiwei pressed his lips together and glared at the table like it personally offended him. Clearly the question of his heritage was a sore spot, but it just made him more curious to know the answer. "Well?"

"I'm not real willing to spill my backstory to people I don't know. It's not my thing."

"On the contrary, I think it is," Asami said calmly. "You're an actor, affiliated in quite a few of the productions held at Republic City University, most recently  _The Cave of Two Lovers_ , and based on the few actors I've been acquainted with, dramatic monologues  _are_  your thing. Maybe you ought to give it a try."

The kid's fists clenched and his jaw tightened, like he was physically restraining himself from hurting her or Bolin. "I'm from a mixed family. Dad's Fire Nation. Mom is half Earth Kingdom and half Fire Nation. I got the earthbending genes from her side of the family even though she and my dad are both firebenders. And so's my—" He shut up as quickly as he started speaking, having said too much.

"Who else in your family's a bender?" Bolin asked, desperate for the answer. "You have siblings? A brother?"

"Yeah." This time Maikesiwei's leer was more reminiscent of a shark-squid, like Hiroshi Sato's had been when he'd kidnapped Bolin. "My brother ain't much of a brother. Been making my life miserable since birth." Then the leer changed into a smile, a wistful smile. "But that'll change soon. Soon we'll be equals."

Bolin didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the kid's smile either. "What do you mean?"

Maikesiwei said nothing; instead, he just looked beyond Bolin and Asami with that wistful smile that sent shivers down Bolin's spine. Apparently they'd be getting nothing more out of him. Before Asami could deduce more about his life or start shouting at him, Beifong opened the door. She had something tucked under her arm—the kid's file, hopefully. "Sato, Lieng, let's go."

Bolin and Asami left the room, and Asami closed the door behind them. Beifong led the two of them to a more private conference room, where Saikhan and Officer VinJi were waiting for them. "VinJi dug up the file on Chenguanxi, so I figured he could be here as well," Beifong told Asami, who nodded.

"Alright. What have you got?"

Beifong took the file out from under her arm. "Not a lot. The kid's record's been pretty quiet, 'side from some parking tickets last year. Probably had a girlfriend in the slums because he was there a lot during the late hours." Asami frowned, as though something about that deduction wasn't quite right, but didn't question it. "Student at RCU, majoring in engineering with a pataphysics minor—"

"Which is how he knew Xióng Yali," Saikhan chimed in. "And he had to take trig as one of the required math courses for his major, so that's how he knew the teacher."

"Thank you for that explanation, Captain Saikhan, we truly couldn't have figured out how he knew the teacher without you." Asami rolled her eyes. Bolin raised an eyebrow at her. "Sorry. Um, go on."

Saikhan and Beifong both looked amazed that Asami had apologized to her self-proclaimed nemesis. Bolin was just surprised he'd managed to guilt-trip her into doing anything. "Right. Anyway, he's from a mixed family, Fire Nation mostly with some Earth Kingdom on his mother's side. That's where he got the earthbending and metalbending skills from. Must've been self taught because he was never a student at the academy."

"Does he have any siblings?" Bolin asked.

"Yes." She looked down again. "A twin brother by the name of…huh. Wow."

"What?" Asami moved over to Beifong's shoulder to try and get a glimpse of the file. "What is it?"

"His twin is the star firebender on the Laogai Lion Vultures. Strange, I never knew he had any siblings." Beifong's eyes widened a little at Bolin and Asami's blank expressions. "You know, Matsumoto Chenguanxi?" That at least rang a bell for Bolin, who had wanted to buy tickets for the Laogai Lion Vultures vs. Harbor Town Hog Monkeys match back when he'd been seeing Hamira because she'd mentioned an interest in their firebender. But the tickets had sold out, so he'd bought tickets for the Buzzard Wasps match instead.

"He's one of the celebrities who endorses Feng's Fire Flakes," VinJi added. "That stupid little jingle plays before every probending match."

 _Now_  Bolin remembered who that was. On his other side, Asami shook her head. "I can't say I remember him, but if he's Maikesiwei's brother then we need to get in touch with him."

"You won't be able to do that today," Beifong said after a moment's pause. "The Lion Vultures are playing a match against the Red Sands Rabaroos this evening and the tickets have been sold out for days."

Bolin's shoulders slumped, but Asami was undeterred. "We can sneak in—"

"No you can't, Asami, not with security being as tight as it is now that the playoffs are in full swing. So unless you know someone really well on either team, you won't be able to get into the arena tonight."

Asami smiled.

* * *

Umi bounced on the balls of her feet, beaming at Asami and Bolin. Behind her, Adi sat talking with Ula about strategy for the upcoming match, but they'd said hello to the two of them when they'd entered the locker room with Umi by their side. "I didn't think I'd see either of you again after that night," she said cheerfully. "It's real good to see you though! Especially you, Miss Sato, I know we owe our victory to you helping me out in those last few seconds."

"Don't be so modest, that was all you in the end," Asami said, waving away the praise. It might have been the nicest thing he'd ever heard her say. "Thank you for helping us after that skirmish with the security guard."

"Nidhi? Ah, he's a softy, it wasn't a problem. He just likes to protect us from our fans. Probably thought that you were in here to cut off a lock of Ula's hair and sell it on the black market."

Bolin's mouth was slightly open. "Uh, has that actually happened before?"

"You'd be surprised how many weird things have happened to us," Umi said with a laugh. "But anyways, enough of me rambling. Since you two are consulting detectives you're probably here on business, right?"

"Unfortunately, yeah," Bolin said. As much as he would have loved to sit back and watch a probending match with Asami, relaxation wasn't on the table until this case was done. "I dunno if you've read the papers, but this girl Xióng Yali got murdered a couple days ago. And we found her murderer today, a guy named Maikesiwei Chenguanxi—"

Adi interrupted him, already having solved the puzzle. "And you're here to talk to Matsumoto, right?" At their surprised looks, she said, "They've got the same last name; I figured they're related. Am I wrong?"

"Um. No, you're right. We didn't have tickets so we hoped that you guys could help us get in and see him before the match started." Bolin bit his lip. "Do you know where we could find him?"

"I'm supposed to meet with him in five minutes—y'know, a captain to captain thing," Adi said. She checked the watch on her wrist and then stood up. "I can take the two of you with me and you can chat for a few minutes, but only a few minutes. We don't have long before the match starts. You in?"

"We're in," Asami decided. Bolin nodded, interested to see what this meeting would bring. "Lead the way."

Adi led the two of them down a long, narrow hallway—thankfully far away from any screaming fans who wanted to keep hair as souvenirs—and into a lounge with cushy chairs, a dark rug, and a coffee table. Sitting on one of the chairs facing the door was a large, Fire Nation man who looked almost exactly like their murderer. He was more muscular than his brother and he had more smile lines around his eyes, although his eyes were filled with confusion as he got a look at Asami and Bolin standing behind Adi. "Who are these two, Adi? More fangirls?"

"No," Asami said with an eye roll. "I'm Asami Sato, consulting detective for the Republic City Police Department, and this is my associate Dr. Bolin Lieng. We're here because your brother murdered two people in the last week and we'd like to ask you some questions about him."

Bolin facepalmed. "You aren't in trouble, Mr. Chenguanxi," he quickly said to the other man, who looked ready to lose his lunch. "Just a few questions and then we'll leave you be with Adi for your captain's meeting."

"Yeah. Um. Okay." Matsumoto regained some color and sat back down in his chair with a thud. Adi left the room, closing the door behind her. Bolin was grateful for the added privacy. "Well, uh, what do you want to know?"

Asami tilted her head, staring down the man for a moment before snapping back to herself. "What has your relationship with your brother been like?"

"Uh, well…" He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously. "We're twins, but we never got along. Mom and Dad always gave way more attention to me than to him but I figured that's 'cause firebending is the family art, and him being an earthbender kinda made him the outsider. I got the best tutors and he just learned on his own 'cause our parents couldn't help him. Anyways, we were snippy with each other for a while—he was always angry with me about something—but didn't speak at all after I got into the probending circuit."

"So you're saying you haven't spoken to your brother since you became a probender?" Bolin tried not to let his disappointment show on his face; he'd expected something a bit more productive. "What's that been now, three years?"

"Four, actually," Matsumoto said, puffing out his chest with a proud grin. "Age sixteen was when the scouts found me. But no, sir, it hasn't been all radio silence since then."

"I assumed as much, Mr. Chenguanxi." Asami clasped her hands together. "So, out with it, when was the last time you two spoke?"

"I dunno about specifics, but he started talking to me again about a year ago. Said he joined some club that made him see things differently, helped him let go of his anger and focus on the future. Fuck if I knew what any of that meant, but I was glad to talk with him more. Nothing special, of course, 'cause I'm too busy with my career, but the occasional lunch, y'know?" Matsumoto paused, brow furrowing as he thought. Bolin half expected smoke to come out of the man's ears or something. Asami just looked thoughtful. "Come to think of it, he came to see me two weeks ago right after we got to the playoffs. Uh, he came to my parents' house, that's where the party was."

"What did he say?"

Another nervous chuckle. "Can't remember exactly because I was a bit drunk, but he said something about how he was glad that we were going to be equals soon. Something like that, yeah. I don't know. I think he was a little drunk too." Matsumoto stood up after checking his wristwatch, an apologetic smile replacing his previous expression. "Sorry but I've got to dash, Adi and I still have to talk before the match. Rituals have gotta be kept."

"Yes, I suppose they do." Asami sighed. "Thank you for your time."

"No prob." Matsumoto turned back to the two of them just as he opened the door, revealing a curious-looking Adi. "So my brother really killed those two, huh? The girl and the teacher?" At Asami's nod, he released a breathy laugh. "Wow. That's hard to wrap my brain around." He shook his head. "Just never thought he had it in him."

* * *

Bolin sat on the front steps leading up to the arena, munching on a sweet bun that he'd bought from a concessions stand. Asami sat next to him, her chin in her hands. She'd been quiet ever since she'd sent one of the nearest members of her homeless network to get the Breeze, having politely refused Adi's invitation to stay for the match. "Hey." He placed the remaining sweet bun back in the carton that it'd come from and scooted closer to her. "You alright?"

Asami exhaled through her nose. If she'd been an airbender, the power of that gust would have sent them flying up to the roof. "I will be once this case is over."

"Want to talk about it?"

She glanced at him quickly, as though she wasn't sure whether the offer was genuine or not, and after a second or two decided that it was. "I just…we've got the killer locked up, but I've got no idea  _why_  he did any of it _._  There are pieces hinting at his motivation but I can't put it together. I'm…well, I'm missing something vital and it's bothering me."

"You can't expect yourself to solve everything in the blink of an eye," Bolin said. "It'll work itself out in the end." At what cost, though, he didn't know. All he knew was that he hoped no one else would die.

The corner of her mouth quirked upward into a half smile. "Your words are…much appreciated, Doctor."

"You could just say thank you, you know. Save yourself some time and syllables." His sarcasm managed to get a laugh out of her, and he counted that as a victory. "I assume you've got a plan for finding the last piece of the puzzle."

"I've got a few roads I haven't tried yet," she answered. "I'll pass along the message through my homeless network, see if anyone knows why Maikesiwei was in the slums so often for this club of his. But you're right, I'll figure it out in the end." At this, she hesitated, and when she spoke again it was cautious. "Or rather,  _we'll_ figure it out in the end. Together."

"Yeah, we will." Bolin wished he had the words to explain why her statement made him so happy but he knew that overly emotional talk wasn't her thing, so he just offered the carton of sweet buns to her. They could talk more about the case later; in the meantime, he wanted to relax with his friend. "Want another? I've got plenty left."

This time, her smile became full and genuine. "Alright." She took the sweet bun out of the carton, letting it rest in her hand instead of eating it right away. "And Bolin?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."


End file.
